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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832120">Partners with a Stranger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_One_Special/pseuds/No_One_Special'>No_One_Special</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How to Recover after Losing your other Half [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sam &amp; Max (Comics), Sam &amp; Max (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And short attention span, Awkward pauses, Awkwardness, Canonical Character Death, Comedy, Depression, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I just want them to be happy, I tried to keep this one lighthearted, M/M, Max has a Bad Memory, Post-Canon, Recovery, Sam &amp; Max: The Devil's Playhouse, Sam and Max's Relationship is Weird, Serious, Spoilers, soft, unclear relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:14:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>65,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_One_Special/pseuds/No_One_Special</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[MAJOR DEVIL'S PLAYHOUSE SPOILERS] [Set Post Season 3]</p><p>Sam &amp; Max are back! Criminals don't stand a chance!</p><p>Everything seems to be completely back to normal now that the two are reunited...So what is this uncomfortable feeling growing between them?<br/>...And why do they each feel like they have no idea who their partner is?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abraham Lincoln/Sybil Pandemik, Max &amp; Sam (Sam &amp; Max), Max/Sam (Sam &amp; Max)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How to Recover after Losing your other Half [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>149</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Back to Normal...ish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! I'm back again with more recovery fluff and stuff.</p><p>This is technically a sequel to my other fic, Bounce Back, but you don't really have to read that to enjoy this one.<br/>There will be a few references to it, and a few bits of information from it, but this will otherwise stand on its own.</p><p>This will flick between Sam's and Max's perspectives fairly frequently. I find I quite enjoy writing for them both :)</p><p>I hope your enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sooo…wanna stop some crimes?”</p><p> </p><p>That was what Max had asked when the two members of the freelance police stood uncomfortably before each other after reuniting in the late evening sun next to the rocky shores looking over the Statue of Liberty. Part of him had asked it to break the unbearable tension between himself and Sam, and another part just really, <em>really</em> wanted to stop crimes.</p><p> </p><p>So that’s what they did. It was just like old times, before their lives had changed and they lost their other halves. It was nice, great even. Not the <em>most</em> fun Max ever had in his life, but he couldn’t deny the rush of serotonin through his brain every time they cuffed a perp.</p><p> </p><p>And Sam was the same. Every time Max turned to his partner, Sam had this big goofy grin on his face, even when he was trying to be serious. What a doof.</p><p> </p><p>He supposed the guy must’ve been completely beside himself without him. How could he not be? Max shuddered to even <em>think</em> of a world without him in it. Surely a world like that would have been exposed to the worst possible timeline. He ignored the fact he had traveled here, thus leaving his own timeline with no Max, for the sake of the hyperbole.</p><p> </p><p>So they stopped crimes all night, having to walk. Max asked about the Desoto, but Sam seemed pretty finicky about answering it. He was kind of weird about the whole thing. Max wasn’t sure why the guy couldn’t just give a straight answer, but didn’t push the topic further yet. He’d ask more about it later. He didn’t mind stopping crime on foot. The chase was more exciting that way!</p><p> </p><p>They had gotten back to the office just as the sun began its ascent into the sky. Max marveled at the “redecorating” Sam had done in the stairwell of their building (though Sam assured him he had nothing to do with it), and he was glad to see all of his stuff in the office was right where he left it. That was good. It reeked of dust and sadness, though. Made Max crinkle his nose.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t stay up for long. Sam complained about being exhausted, so they turned in, despite the fact that it was so late it was basically morning already. Max supposed that, to a weaker person such as Sam, it would make sense to sleep after running around the city all night. And while Max wasn’t tired in the slightest, he could at least respect Sam’s wishes enough to go to bed, too. Besides, staying awake by himself was boring.</p><p> </p><p>They climbed to their bedroom, where Max proudly and thoroughly searched through the piles of junk to make sure his <em>favorite</em> junk was where he left it. He wouldn’t know what to do without his junk. Surely die…probably. And that’s <em>after</em> killing Sam for touching and moving his stuff, of course. He’d hate to kill the guy so soon after just getting him back.</p><p> </p><p>He assured everything was in place and leapt up onto the top bunk, having to scramble his legs to fully pull himself up. It was just as cozy as always, and the feeling of claustrophobia from the ceiling being inches away from his face was just how he remembered. Ahh…memories!</p><p> </p><p>Sam took the time to change out of his suit into his pajamas, which he had in a bag in the bottom of the closet, for some reason. Max never knew Sam to care enough about those ratty old rags to actually put them away. In fact, Max didn’t know why Sam even bothered with clothes at all. They were a nuisance to say the least. He liked the feel of the air across his body. Plus he was more aerodynamic this way. Less wind resistance. Though, he supposed that it made <em>some </em>sense that Sam would protect the world by covering himself. It just wasn’t ready for an overweight, naked dog running around with a gun. <em>Max</em> wasn’t even ready for something like that and he’d known the guy for years.</p><p> </p><p>It was strange Sam was changing right in front of him, though. He didn’t normally do that. He usually scampered to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and stuff. Another waste of time according to Max. Said lagomorph leaned his head on his hand, elbow on the edge of the bunkbed.</p><p> </p><p>“Gee, Sam. You sure know how to give a guy a show, huh?” He sneered slightly, only an edge of teasing in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>Sam whipped around and covered his bare chest with the pajama top, clearly flustered at the question. “Oh!” He quickly caught his breath and turned his head to the side. “Ah, sorry little buddy. I, uh…” He trailed off…<em>again</em>, and scratched the back of his neck. Max scoffed dramatically and threw himself back onto his pillow, bouncing slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Jeez, <em>relax</em>, Sam. I was just kidding.” He groaned with annoyance, rubbing his eyes. Why was Sam always so <em>weird</em> all the time? Couldn’t even take a joke anymore.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t watching Sam anymore, but he heard that his partner took another moment before he finished changing. Something about the exchange made him feel weird. Sam hadn’t reacted to any of his jokes like that before. It almost made him feel bad. Imagine! Max feeling <em>bad</em> about embarrassing Sam. Was he getting soft? Aside from physically, that is? Max decided that when they woke up, he’d start gnawing on something to build his toughness back up.</p><p> </p><p>Another moment passed, and Max heard the lights click off followed by the few steps Sam took to reach the bunk. Max opened his eyes back up and the room was dark. Sam sat down, causing the bunk to creak, and tucked himself into bed. It was quiet for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Max hated the quiet just before sleeping. It was the worst. Didn’t help that he was always so restless. Sleep was just so <em>boring</em>. If it were up to him, they’d be on watch for criminals 24/7. Sam told him he’d end up passing out on patrol, but that hadn’t happened yet…as far as he remembered, that is.</p><p> </p><p>Max poked his head over the side of his bed. It was almost impossible to see, but he could just make out Sam lying there beneath him, staring back up at him. They locked eyes. They stayed like that for just a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Saaaam!” Max whined after that moment, slamming his hand on the underside of his bunk and gripping it tightly. “You know I can’t go to sleep without a bedtime story…a goodnight kiss, at least!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam gave a small laugh at that before responding. “Sorry, little pal. I’m out of stories tonight.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And you don’t know where my mouth’s been, so a kiss is probably also off the table.”</p><p> </p><p>Max sat back up too fast. He ended up slamming his head on the ceiling with an audible thump. He ignored the bump growing on the back of his head and the whiplash of moving too quickly. “You’re no fun!” He complained before turning over on his bed and flopping down, causing the whole bed to shake and groan. Only then did he rub the back of his head.</p><p> </p><p>Sam chuckled again at that before trailing off. And then there was that feeling in the air again, like when Max first stepped out of the time machine and they sat there, insecurity and eye contact avoidance. It was weird and uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>It reminded Max of the one time when he was a kid and that one girl…what was her name? Tammie? Jessie? He couldn’t remember. That one time she had told him something but he had completely stopped paying attention, because <em>man</em> was she boring, and then she had given him this look like he was supposed to say something, but the first thing that came to his mind was about clowns juggling chainsaws at a circus. No, no, wait…<em>flaming</em> chainsaws! Long story short, she ran off crying with Max none the wiser.</p><p> </p><p>But there was still that brief moment that Max couldn’t quite recall where there had been a feeling just like this. Where that girl was just sitting there, <em>waiting</em> for him to say something in response to…whatever it was she had confessed to him. But he had no idea what he was supposed to say. He supposed it would be easier if he bothered remembering what she said, but if she had been <em>that </em>boring, then she didn’t deserve a proper response. He still remembered that discomfort, though. It’s what he was feeling here, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out <em>why</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, little buddy.” Sam’s words interrupted Max’s…what was he thinking about? Shoot. Did Sam say anything else? How long had he been distracted?</p><p> </p><p>“Night, Sam.” He responded like he usually did when Sam wished him goodnight and things wound down for the freelance police.</p><p> </p><p>And then they were quiet. <em>Horribly</em> quiet. The <em>worst</em> kind of quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you want to slam your head into the wall. Max crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. No doubt Sam was overthinking some mundane thing or other to keep himself up, despite sleeping being <em>his</em> idea.</p><p> </p><p>Max wasn’t. Thinking, that is. He was just bored. He kicked his legs and shimmied his body about to try and make himself comfortable on his unfamiliar-yet-familiar bed just to pass the time. The bunk bed squeaked and groaned with every movement, as if it were going to collapse any second. If Sam wasn’t already completely used to such distractions at bedtime, Max might’ve even felt bad…nah, just kidding. He wouldn’t care. Sleep was dumb, anyway. The less Sam slept, the more they’d be able to hang out and do fun, interesting things.</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring whatever it was he had just been worried about a second ago, Max continued to bask in the bubbling joy that had taken root in him ever since he saw Sam again. It felt even better than when he was stomping on people’s throats. It made him feel all warm and disgusting inside. Made him want to reach into his stomach and tear his innards out. The <em>best</em> kind of feeling.</p><p> </p><p>Was all of that <em>just</em> because he saw Sam again? Had he really missed the guy that much? Maybe he just thought of something funny, or had an <em>especially</em> great night of twisting criminals’ arms behind their backs until they popped.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t kidding himself. It <em>had</em> to be because of Sam. He didn’t even really need to ask. He already knew he went to enough trouble to see the big lug again. Max wasn’t used to coming up any sort of solution that didn’t involve fire in some capacity, but he did manage to surmise that: Max, plus any version of Sam, equaled this gross, sugar coated feeling bubbling inside of him. Or maybe it was gas. Definitely could be gas.</p><p> </p><p>He would never admit any of this to Sam, of course. Couldn’t taint his reputation by being reliant on anyone for happiness, but no one could keep him enthralled and interested like Sam did. No one could make him laugh like the big doof. Or entertain his ideas for senseless and needless violence like his partner did. Max dared to say that a universe without a Sam in it would <em>almost</em> be as bad as a universe without himself. Almost…</p><p> </p><p>Max had a pretty shoddy memory, but even he remembered…some sort of sadness about Sam. He didn’t often have memories repeat through his head, at least, not ones that didn’t make him laugh in maniacal delight, but there was a conversation he’d had with Sam…or maybe it was like…a picture or something? He swore he could remember every word and detail, but when he tried to focus on them, they left his mind. It was excruciating.</p><p> </p><p><em>That’s a fun word</em>! Max thought, interrupting himself. <em>Ex-CROOO-She-Ate-Teeng.</em> It made him snort, though to be fair he did <em>try</em> to be quiet. He wasn’t that cruel… (Okay, that was a lie) but he wasn’t that cruel to <em>Sam</em>.</p><p> </p><p>What was he thinking about? Oh, yeah, when Sam-</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Max heard said dog lightly snoring below him. Figured. Big guy was usually the first to conk out. Also explained why he was usually the first one up and moving, too. Looks like he’d have to be extra quiet now.</p><p> </p><p>Max hated being quiet. Being quiet meant he couldn’t yell out obscenities or slam into things at alarming speeds, causing massive damage and destruction. Quiet meant sitting still or, like…reading something. He couldn’t take it.</p><p> </p><p>He flipped to his side and buried himself in his blanket up to his eyes. He shut those same eyes tightly and focused really hard not to scream for no reason, just because it would wake Sam up and he didn’t want to deal with a grumpy Sam again.</p><p> </p><p>He listened to the inconsistent sounds of Sam’s snores. Some people found snoring annoying and a constant distraction from sleeping, but Max didn’t mind. He kind of liked that it wasn’t totally quiet, and that he didn’t have to focus on…what was he thinking about? Oh, right. Sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Max only vaguely recalled the sleepless nights when Sam was gone and he was sitting here (but not, like <em>here</em>-here. His own timeline.) in his bedroom by himself. He only remembered that he was restless. And not even the good kind of restless where you’re too excited to fall asleep or you just really <em>really</em> gotta go to the bathroom but you’re far to snuggled in to get up. It was the <em>sad</em> kind. Max didn’t much care for it. He’d much rather not be able to sleep because of Sam’s snoring than because he was alone.</p><p> </p><p>Max’s brain kept going like this for...well, he wasn’t keeping track. Didn’t exactly have a built in clock on him. He kept going on for a while, anyway.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam didn’t awaken to a loud noise for once, which was a welcome change. Heck, he almost felt well rested, too. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what had woken him up. Must’ve just been one of those moments between dreams where he gripped onto consciousness just enough to realize he was asleep. The worst kind of sleep interruption.</p><p> </p><p>He turned to his side and focused on going back to sleep, only quietly grumbling to himself about it. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the creaking of the bunk beds as Max twitched in his sleep, or the deep breathing of the lagomorph.</p><p> </p><p>But it was silent.</p><p> </p><p>It took Sam a moment to process it, and even when he did, he listened for another second just to be sure. But it was completely silent. There wasn’t a single noise in the bedroom aside from his own breathing. For another moment, he thought the entire night he’d spent with Max was a dream, and he was back to being alone, but it felt wrong.</p><p> </p><p>No. No, he was <em>sure</em> he’d seen Max again. They’d stayed out all night together. Usually hallucinations weren’t that long lasting, as far as Sam knew. And dreams weren’t usually so detailed that he recalled every conversation and perp they’d bagged the previous night. So while he was sure this Max was real, it didn’t explain the silence.</p><p> </p><p>Sam begrudgingly sat up and got out of bed. He peeked over the top bunk. It was just as messy as usual, but definitely no rabbit-y thing. No reason to panic. Probably just stepped out. Or woke up early. Or something.</p><p> </p><p>He blinked what sleep remained in his eyes out and gingerly stepped to the bedroom door, ensuring to avoid the hazards that lay across the floor. He opened the door only to be basically blinded by how bright the hallway was. He had to squint his eyes almost completely shut, standing with the door slightly ajar for a minute to get used to the light. What time was it? How long had he been asleep?</p><p> </p><p>When his eyes adjusted to the offending light in the hallway, Sam stepped out of the bedroom, still in his pajamas. He poked his head in the bathroom, but there was no sign of Max. <em>Must be in the office</em>. He thought as he began descending the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>He heard Max before he saw him. As he slowly made his way down the broken stairs, he heard a consistent clanging noise every second or so. It was definitely coming from the office. <em>What did Max get up to now</em>? He thought, relieved that there was audible proof he wasn’t just going crazy.</p><p> </p><p>Sam walked up to the door and creaked it open, poking his head inside.</p><p> </p><p>Max was sitting on the window sill by Sam’s desk. The bright sun illuminated his soft white fur and it almost looked like he was glowing. His head was plopped on one of his hands, his elbow resting on one of his bent knees. He was staring solemnly out onto the streets below. He had dragged the empty garbage can over and dangled his foot into it from where he sat. He swung said foot idly, clanging the metal can with each kick, almost knocking it over a few times. It was just loud enough to be heard outside the office and just consistent enough to be annoying. Sam couldn’t find himself upset at the noise, though. It did a great job of filling the silence, which they both couldn’t stand.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t expect you to be up before me, little buddy.” Sam announced his presence and closed the door behind him. “I must’ve been more tired than I thought.” He leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest, relaxing. Max immediately stopped kicking and turned to face him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hi, Sam!” He beamed. “Don’t worry! I didn’t wake up before you, cuz I didn’t sleep in the first place!” He kept grinning as he said it. “So, really, I’m just staying up way later than you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam would have been concerned, but the little guy had done weirder things. Much weirder. He simply shrugged as he gave an “Alright, then.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause.</p><p> </p><p>And there it was. <em>Again</em>. Sam noticed it right away. That weird, awkward, and uncomfortable silence that grew between them. It started low, practically flowing out of the cracks in the floorboards, and only seemed to grow higher and higher until it felt like he was suffocating on it. Each second that passed only made it more difficult to find the words to say to fill the void that had seemingly grown between them.</p><p> </p><p>Sam fidgeted where he was. Either Max was immune to the awkward air around them or he was really good at ignoring it. Sam found that he wanted to ask his partner if something was going on that made him come down to the office by himself all night, but he couldn’t choke the words out. It felt weird to ask Max of all people about the logic behind his actions. It felt even weirder knowing that Max might’ve even <em>had</em> logic behind his actions.</p><p> </p><p>Max had this look in his eye. It was just there for a second, but Sam swore that his little buddy felt the same way he did. Like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to. Maybe it also had to do with this nauseating silence. Maybe he also wanted to talk about…whatever it was they should talk about. Not a second after he thought he noticed that look, though, Max was back to his usual self.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em>starving</em>. Whaddya say we go eat?” Max jumped off the window sill back onto the floor of the office. It took Sam a moment to register the change. He stood there unmoving, resting against the door. That didn’t stop Max from walking right up to him, pulling out an invisible stethoscope, and pretending to listen intently to the contents of Sam’s stomach while nodding his head in understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmhmm…Mmhmm…Yup, looks like you’re running on empty. I’m gonna prescribe one hearty meal at the nearest sketchy, back alley restaurant.” He announced, pretending to write out a prescription.</p><p> </p><p>That pulled Sam out of his head. He silently thanked Max for the change in topic. He laughed and playfully shoved the lagomorph away from him. “I certainly hope they don’t charge as much as other U.S. pharmacies. Otherwise we’d be starved on the street.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, Sam. I’ve got <em>great</em> insurance!” Max announced, pulling out his gun and giving a wide, devilish grin.</p><p> </p><p>“You crack me up, little buddy.”</p>
<hr/><p>Max didn’t know where they were going to eat. Sam usually decided things like that. All he knew was: Sam took forever to change, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he ate.</p><p> </p><p>He had to walk idly in circles while waiting for Sam, who, despite Max’s point that they should both go au naturel like God intended, insisted he would just be a minute.</p><p> </p><p>But that was, like, however many minutes ago? Max could swear he’d starve to death before Sam finished changing. It was pure <em>agony</em>. He might have to resort to auto-cannibalism just to survive. He didn’t need <em>both</em> arms. Or he could eat the couch. He was sure there were enough crumbs tucked between the cushions to sustain him for weeks.</p><p> </p><p>Max crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, ceasing his pacing. Being dramatic like that was no fun when Sam wasn’t around to be the straight-man.</p><p> </p><p>He switched his attention to gazing around the room, trying to find something to focus on. His attention slowly went back to the open window. Suddenly he felt like he was in a far off place. One that he almost remembered, but couldn’t quite put his finger on.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You’re okay!? You’re not hurt, are you? I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I know. I know it’s hard. But, Max, you have to do this.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>For what it’s worth, I don’t think I’d rather have anyone else blow me up, little buddy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Max stared, wide eyed as the memories played on loop in his head. It felt like he was dreaming. Maybe he should have tried a little harder to get sleep, if he was just going to hallucinate like this. It wasn’t like him to act so loopy…well, loopy like this, that is.</p><p> </p><p>What was the point of thinking about this? What good did it do? It only made him feel confused and angry and sad. Why did it keep repeating in his head? And why did it all sound so <em>important</em>?  Did it have to do with Sam? It couldn’t be that he missed him. Sam was <em>just</em> in the room with him, like, only a minute ago. And Max wasn’t <em>that</em> clingy. They’d stopped crimes together all night. It was fun. So why did he feel alone, still? Like that time after Sam was gone and he had to try and do things by himself?</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s ready for some greasy, heart stopping, artery clogging, old-fashioned American cuisine?” Sam announced as he busted through the door in his signature suit and hat, snapping Max out of his thoughts. Sam paused. “Whatcha staring at, little buddy?”</p><p> </p><p>Max stared back at the window and squinted. “I think we have a ghost, Sam.” He pointed at the window and then quickly snapped his head back to look at his partner, whispering aggressively. “I can see dead people…”</p><p> </p><p>Sam chuckled and patted the top of Max’s head. “Alright, Carol Anne. Stop playing with specters for a few minutes and let’s go eat.” He paused for one more second, ensuring Max was paying attention, before turning around and leading the way out of the office.</p><p> </p><p>Max followed shortly behind him, already forgetting about whatever it was he had been questioning.</p><p> </p><p>Though that lonely feeling didn’t go away.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam wasn’t sure if he had just been really hungry from not eating a proper meal in however many days, but this rundown little local joint they found themselves in probably had the best burgers on this side of the Mississippi. It had just the right amount of leftover gunk from an unclean grill, mixed with meat that had been sitting out at room temperature for just a <em>little</em> too long. Pure perfection.</p><p> </p><p>The place they were in was sketchy at best. Flickering, dingy lights. Old, cracked, dirty checkerboard tiled flooring. The booths looked like something out of a European silent horror film. Max even bragged that his side had a mysterious stain on the seat. Completely empty aside from the weasely looking staff and the occasional rat or cockroach. Sam couldn’t even recall if the sign out front said anything other than “FOOD” in faded and torn letters. The usual stuff.</p><p> </p><p>Max had done less eating, and more mashing all of the food he had together into a gray-ish paste on his plate before swallowing said plate whole. Sam supposed that meant he also enjoyed the food there.</p><p> </p><p>Normally, Sam would have preferred to people-watch any of the strange patrons that entered the fine dining establishment, but since there weren’t any, he found himself staring at the peeling, dirty wallpaper instead. Reminded him of home.</p><p> </p><p>He paid for the food (and the plate, which the restaurant was <em>not</em> getting back) and the freelance police headed out into the afternoon daylight.</p><p> </p><p>He only noticed as they walked back to the office how uncharacteristically quiet Max had been. Little guy had commented on the booth, ate, and hadn’t really said a word since. It was weird. Sam was usually the one that had to be broken out of his thoughts, not Max. He couldn’t even remember the last time the lagomorph had gotten lost in thought, if it had ever even happened. It was really odd.</p><p> </p><p>Sam couldn’t explain it, but, aside from when they’d been stopping crimes the previous night, Max had seemed distant and aloof. He still ran around and joked with like always, but Sam couldn’t help but feel there was something under the surface of his little buddy he wasn’t seeing. Seeing how Max played it off whenever Sam noticed anything only served to make the canine more concerned.</p><p> </p><p>Was something…bothering Max? Like…<em>really</em> bothering him? Sam ran through the list of possibilities. Favorite TV show getting cancelled? Did Sam have to tell him “no” to something recently? Did he forget something from his own timeline? That was about as deep as the lagomorph’s thought process usually went.</p><p> </p><p>And that was something else, entirely. Sam had been so focused on being thankful that Max was back that he almost forgot that the little guy was from a completely different timeline. Something about blowing this…<em>other</em> Sam up. He hardly caught the explanation Max gave when he arrived, admittedly. He had been a <em>bit</em> distracted about…you know…Max literally <em>standing in front of him after Sam had assumed the guy was gone for good</em>. Was that the problem? Was Max…upset about his other Sam? Just like he was still sad about losing his own Max?</p><p> </p><p>He’d have to ask, but how would he go about it? Just rip the bandage off and talk about it? Try and ease into the conversation? Maybe-</p><p> </p><p>“Helloooo?! Earth to Sam! Come in, Sam!” Max almost yelled as he waved both hands in front of Sam’s face, breaking him out of his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh? What?” Sam shook his head and looked down at Max, who had taken to standing with his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed. “Uh, sorry, little buddy. Just got lost in thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“And to think, here I was opening up about all of my blossoming feelings and emotions on a deep and personal level because I trusted you to pay attention to them.” Max tossed his head back and laid his forearm over his forehead dramatically as he sighed audibly. “Serves me right for trusting a man with my heart.”</p><p> </p><p>“Har-har. Good one, Melonhead.” Sam deadpanned while he put his hand on his hip. “Keep that up and the shippers are gonna lose their minds.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think it’s a little late for that, Sam.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, what’s going on, little buddy? You usually only snap me out of a stupor if it’s important.” Of course, Max’s definition of ‘important’ varied <em>wildly</em>, but Sam didn’t comment on that.</p><p> </p><p>Max gave a signature, wide grin and pointed to the building across the street from them. It was an old brick building, a few of said bricks were cracked and threatening to fall onto the street. There were two large garage doors, their stark white color disjointed against the age of the building. There was a faded, blue wooden sign above the door that read “Carl’s Car Repare.” Misspelling included.</p><p> </p><p>“A car mechanic?” Sam scratched the side of his head. “Is there…some kind of nefarious activity happening here?” He adjusted his tie and asked in a whisper so no one would hear, despite the fact they were the only two in sight.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous, Sam.” Max waved it off. “Though, maybe…” He put a hand under his chin in thought before shaking his head. “Nah.” He grabbed the cuff of Sam’s sleeve and began dragging him towards the place, stepping right off the curb onto the street, not even looking if any vehicles were coming. “Let’s get the Desoto back! I’m tired of walking everywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam felt his face pale. Max must’ve thought the Desoto was just out for repairs. Didn’t he tell him? He could’ve sworn that he told him. Did the little guy just not pay attention?</p><p> </p><p>“Max, the Desoto’s not here.” Sam freed himself from the lagomorph’s grasp, straightened out his suit, and readjusted his cuff, avoiding eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>Max skidded to a halt as Sam freed himself. “Whaaaat?! Where is it? Across town? Sam, I can’t bear to walk another step! We need our wheels back!” He practically wailed in the middle of the street as he panicked over their missing car. Sam rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Max. And quit yelling, you’re giving me a headache.” Max instantly stopped. “It was, uh…d-destroyed…on our last case…” He trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>“…You…let our car…get <em>destroyed</em>?!” Max glared, white hot anger bubbling off the little guy.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t <em>let</em> it. It was collateral damage…” Sam scratched at the back of his neck, a bad habit he’d found himself taking up recently. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not in the middle of the road. It had been weird enough having to cope with his partner being gone, but have to explain to a different version of said partner how it all happened was…too much. “It’s a tad overwhelming.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say ‘tad,’ Sam.” Max tutted, waving a finger, his anger seemingly instantly dissipating. “So, you destroyed the Desoto. Man, you’re lucky I wasn’t here or else there’d be some serious hell to pay.” He paused, suddenly he was jumping up in Sam’s face, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling them. “Was it cool?! When it blew up? I’m assuming it blew up, that would be the most fitting end for the old girl. I would’ve loved to see it! Say, where <em>is</em> this timeline version of me, anyway?” He bounced with every question, suddenly bursting with energy. He paused just long enough for Sam to shove him off and he looked around, half expecting another Max to suddenly appear out of thin air.</p><p> </p><p>Sam stiffened at the last question. He didn’t know why he was so caught up on it. Well, he <em>did</em>, but couldn’t bring himself to say. Max had detailed what had happened to past Sam, surely he could explain where his Max was, right? “…Uh, y’see, little buddy…on our last case…” He swallowed. Max cocked his head to the side, waiting for more.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Sam couldn’t focus. Why was he freaking out right now? Everything was fine. Max was right here. Right in front of him. But every time he blinked it was like he was teleported back to when he had to wave goodbye, or when the cloning pod opened and Max wasn’t there. It made him feel <em>so alone</em>. He felt like he was choking. It felt like the world was becoming smaller and smaller around him, until he felt cramped underneath the dense, blue sky.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, nevermind!” Max interrupted his spiral into panic and accidentally slapped him in the face when he turned, waving his arms around. It took Sam a few more seconds to snap back out of it. “I just remembered! I don’t’ really care.” He paused his prancing, suddenly looking serious as he looked at Sam. “And since we don’t have our car, and I can’t bear to take another step, that means you’ll have to carry me.”</p>
<hr/><p>Max had been pretty proud of himself for that one. He didn’t really know what exactly happened to this other version of himself, but if it caused Sam to freak out enough to look like he was gonna pass out, it could wait for another day. The lagomorph had better things to do than to mess with the big softie’s mental health. Besides, this way he got a free ride on his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Max indeed was perched on Sam’s shoulders as they made their way down the street. The dog didn’t seem to mind the idea of carrying his little buddy. Anything to change the topic. Though having Max crawl up his side the way he did was uncalled for.</p><p> </p><p>Max looked down and royally waved to his loyal subjects as they basked in his glory. Okay, so in reality the few people they passed on the street completely paid him no mind, but Max still took great satisfaction in imagining them groveling at his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Sam. Was I still president in this timeline?” He asked, hoping the guy wouldn’t freak out again. He just wanted more confirmation that he was, indeed, destined to rule. In this and every timeline.</p><p> </p><p>Sam tried looking up at him, but he couldn’t see the lagomorph over the brim of his hat. “Sure were, little buddy. You made the official command for monuments in your honor pretty much right away. At least one in every state.”</p><p> </p><p>Max nodded at that. “Ah, very good.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “Except Wyoming.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, except Wyoming.” Sam confirmed.</p><p> </p><p>Max flopped his head down so it was resting on the top of Sam’s hat as they walked. It bounced with every step, and it was uncomfortable to lean the way he did, but he did it anyway. “Part of me is gonna miss the oval office, but being president turned out to be pretty boring. Not nearly as many missile drops as I would’ve liked.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam hummed at that. “At least we got to blow up Lincoln. That was good.” He reasoned.</p><p> </p><p>Max groaned. “Yeah, I <em>guess</em>.” He intentionally exaggerated sounding bored and unsatisfied with the outcome. “Though it would’ve been much cooler to see him blow up in person.”</p><p><br/>
“Can’t argue with that. The war room could use some higher quality monitors at the very least.” Sam replied as he walked through an intersection, the little pedestrian sign turning green as he did.</p><p> </p><p>Man. No second Max, no Desoto, and no new missile stories? Max was starting to doubt that this timeline was really the one he should spend the rest of his life in. What kind of timeline didn’t have some wheels? What kind of putz would actually go around <em>walking</em> everywhere? He paused, listening to Sam’s footsteps. Yeah, what kind of putz, indeed.</p><p> </p><p>Max didn’t mean to sound childish or whiny, but he had certain, lofty expectations. True, he had been forced to face disappointment many times in his life because of these expectations, but it was all necessary for greatness! Sacrifices had to be made, to…uh…</p><p> </p><p>What was he thinking about, again?</p><p> </p><p>Desoto, other Max, Sam. Right! What was with Sam getting so weird about other Max?  Current Max didn’t have any problems detailing how his own Sam had been blown up (by his own hand, of course). Granted, he didn’t really remember most of the details, but at least he knew it happened! Why was this other Sam so weird about it?</p><p> </p><p>He supposed that Sam had always been kind of a softie. A big softie. Guy cried at soap operas and tiny animals wearing little clothes. It couldn’t be helped that he had trouble. It was a great juxtaposition from Max’s cool, collected exterior. Max was sure this was all 100% true and definitely not an exaggeration or falsehood in any capacity.</p><p> </p><p>Where was he going with this?</p><p> </p><p>He paused to think. He found himself doing that a lot recently, thinking. Made him wanna puke. Who was he, Sam? Max was the run around wildly and break things with reckless abandon guy. Sam was the set up traps, figure out solutions to puzzles Max didn’t want to deal with, and also sometimes break stuff with reckless abandon guy. A perfect match!</p><p> </p><p>It was, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Something still felt…<em>off</em> to Max, though he couldn’t place what and just didn’t have the vocabulary necessary to name it. <em>Dude, seriously? Not cool</em>. Max thought. Er, sorry.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he couldn’t name what it was exactly, or why he was feeling the way he was, but he still felt lost. Lonely. It <em>stunk</em>. And it made <em>no</em> sense. He had everything he had ever wanted (except for, y’know, <em>most</em> of the things he ever wanted), so why did he still feel like something was missing? Or was he forgetting something?</p><p> </p><p>He ran through his checklist of everything he ever wanted: They still had his favorite punching bag in the office, still had his bed, still had his microwave to cook things in unexpected and sometimes explosive ways, still had a big doof named Sam to carry him around whenever he wanted…He knew there were others, but he couldn’t remember them right now. So what was the problem? Was it the Desoto? Was that why he felt so alone?</p><p> </p><p>Nah, probably not. He loved the old thing, especially in the rare instance Sam let him drive it…or when he stole the keys out of Sam’s pocket while the dog napped at his desk. Same thing, really.</p><p> </p><p>“Max?” Sam’s voice interrupted his train of thought.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it, Sam?” He replied, annoyed. “I was trying to calculate how high of a building I could drop a potential perp off of without him splattering on the pavement. Last time was a giant mess!” He came up with the excuse instantly. It was a real talent, saying the first thing that came to his head when he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention. Got him through school. “Y’know…for science.”</p><p> </p><p>“You never dropped anyone off of any buildings…?” Sam paused to think, just to be sure. “Besides, you don’t even know what calculate means.” The dog slowed his walk until he was standing still.</p><p> </p><p>“Details, Sam. Details.” Max waved it off. “Why are you interrupting me when I’m in the middle of something so important?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I don’t know where you want to go, bonehead.” Sam sounded grumpy, but Max knew he was just teasing. “And you didn’t react the first two times I asked.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that all? Take me back to my palace, steed! And make it snappy!” Max made a whip crack noise before putting his feet on Sam’s shoulders. He gripped the poor guy’s head for balance as he pointed forward. “To glory!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam looked <em>this</em> close to throwing the numbskull onto the concrete. He grunted as Max flopped back to sitting on his shoulders, trying to keep his balance. “One more stunt like that and I’m throwing you on the ground.” He straightened his hat.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough.” Max knew he was just kidding. Maybe. Okay, probably not. It <em>would</em> be kind of funny if he did it again and Sam fell flat on his face. Or his butt. Though the idea of having to walk back to the office on his own two feet was horrifying. It far outweighed how funny it would be if Sam had fallen.</p><p> </p><p>…What had he been thinking about again?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm not sure how long this fic will be or how frequently I'll update.</p><p>Usually I'd wait until I've written most of the story to post any chapters, since I don't like being unprepared, but seeing as today (March 3rd) is Sam's birthday, I felt compelled to post.</p><p>As of now, I have three chapters written. I will work diligently and keep up with writing, though it most likely won't update everyday.</p><p>Happy Birthday, Sam!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Let Sleeping Dogs (And Rabbits) Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few days for the freelance police weren’t much different from their first: stay out late stopping crimes (the most fun criminals always worked at night), go to sleep in the wee early hours of the morning, wake up at noon-ish, go eat, and do it all again. It was a good system, and Sam almost felt comfortable with his life again. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>Max had taken to waking up before him, which he’d never done before, as far as Sam could recall. He chalked it up to a difference in their timelines at first. Certainly there were some changes between his reality and Max’s original one. Though the little guy usually didn’t fall asleep until after him, too. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Max had stopped sleeping completely, which wouldn’t make any sense. The lagomorph was as energetic as ever. Didn’t even nod off at meal times or when they were sitting in the office, bored.</p><p> </p><p>Nah, he was probably just overthinking things again.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t want to admit it aloud, but he still felt that something wasn’t quite right. Particularly with Max. They still talked and goofed off as usual, but something just didn’t quite sit right with the canine. It wasn’t only those moments he caught Max staring off into space, either. That wouldn’t have been <em>that</em> weird. It was those moments where they looked at each other like they didn’t know who they were talking to. Like they hadn’t spent their entire lives working and growing together. Where neither one of them knew what to say, leaving them sitting in a gross silence. Those were what concerned Sam the most.</p><p> </p><p>And it was one of those moments they were having right now.</p><p> </p><p>They were sitting in the office, as usual, winding down for the night (morning?) when Max had said something about being used as a bowling ball to knock over a group of thugs guarding some back alley drug deal. A typical bust. Then, he kind of trailed off suddenly and Sam wasn’t sure how to respond.</p><p> </p><p>And while the silence between them couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, it felt like lifetimes passed in those moments. It made Sam feel so uncomfortable he’d rather dunk his head in a barrel of hungry piranhas than sit through it.</p><p> </p><p>And while he wanted to ask Max about it, he wasn’t even sure if the little guy fully understood his discomfort or felt the same way. Maybe it was just him, overthinking again. Maybe he was seeing things that weren’t there, like that time Max hit his head too hard in a case and insisted there was an invisible third member of the freelance police named Steve. He even let the imaginary character ride shotgun in the Desoto. He laughed more at Steve’s jokes than Sam’s. So, naturally, Sam had to clunk him on the head again to fix him.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that’s all it was.</p><p> </p><p>Or, maybe he had something to talk about that he couldn’t bring himself to. Maybe he wasn’t even fully sure what it was. And maybe Max was going through the same thing. Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t like maybes. Too many possibilities and outcomes. He much preferred concrete solutions and concrete actions. That’s why he got along with Max so well. Little guy didn’t have a subtle bone in his body. At least, not usually. Lately, Sam felt that <em>all</em> of Max’s bones had been subtle, and he wasn’t sure what he could do about it.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t have the guts to ask. The two freelance police members had never been ones to casually talk about their feelings unless those feelings involved food or wanton destruction. Nothing serious or sad.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, Sam wasn’t sure he could even remember the last time he saw Max genuinely upset about something. Playfully upset, yes. But seriously? Like, about serious topics? Never. Not even when he learned the Desoto was gone. He freaked out for one second before he went back to his usual self. Playful.</p><p> </p><p>Sam tried to distract himself, or break the sickening silence by thinking of a joke or something, but his mind drew a total blank. It was weird. Unnatural. Neither he nor Max were usually drawn to speechlessness, but for the life of him, Sam couldn’t figure out what to say. If Max was trying to think of something as well, he must not have been having any luck either.</p><p> </p><p>So they sat there in silence, discomfort growing more and more between them. It made Sam want to scream. Made his skin crawl. It felt unending. It felt like some wild and crazy punishment for something they didn’t do. Or, maybe they did. Who knows? They did a lot of stuff.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well, I’m gonna go slam my head into the wall. Be right back!” Max loudly and suddenly announced as he ran and opened the door to the office, slamming it behind him. So he <em>did</em> notice it…probably. Sam still wasn’t sure. Slamming his head into the wall was something Max normally did, so he couldn’t say.</p><p> </p><p>Sam watched him go and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His shoulders slumped. When had he tensed up so much? <em>Why</em> had he tensed up so much? What was going on between them? Sam couldn’t remember them ever having this issue when it was him and his original Max.</p><p> </p><p>He knew he shouldn’t have thought of that. He knew that he should let his old Max go. <em>This</em> was his Max, now. Still the same lovable ball of fluff and pointy teeth. Many of the same experiences and memories.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em>still Max</em>. So…</p><p> </p><p>Why did it feel like he was a complete stranger?</p>
<hr/><p>Banging his head against the concrete wall outside of the building proved to be more entertaining than Max initially thought it would be. It was a great way to convert all of those confusing and sad thoughts into mind-numbing pain!</p><p> </p><p>He paused after a resounding whack against the wall to get his bearings again. He wasn’t necessarily aiming for a concussion, so he had to hold back a little.</p><p> </p><p>Was it just him, or was Sam acting <em>really</em> weird? Like…more than usual weird. Maybe in this timeline the guy didn’t properly learn how to talk, so Max had to be the face of the duo in every way. He did have all of the components of a great leader: smarts, good looks, personality, and he had a real passion for breaking things just to say he could. He even had a bumbling assistant.</p><p> </p><p>Max blew a raspberry. Nah, he didn’t want to do what Sam always did: question people until they hate you, take stuff and use them in ways no normal person would think of, <em>not</em> have the desire to shoot everything he saw. Not for him. Sam could keep that.</p><p> </p><p>So why was the dog acting so strange? And why did Max feel like he didn’t even know the guy? Maybe this version of Sam killed off the other Max and was secretly a crazed maniac!</p><p> </p><p>No, they were already crazed maniacs, he wouldn’t need to hide something like that. It would only further entice Max, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Max was <em>sure</em> it somehow involved this other timeline version of himself, he just couldn’t figure out how. The simple answer was that this other version of him died. That would explain why he didn’t pop up and <em>maybe</em> Sam’s behavior about it. But that would be lame. Wouldn’t it be cooler to have more than one Max? Sam &amp; Max &amp; Max: Freelance Police!</p><p> </p><p>Max slammed his head into the wall again.</p><p> </p><p>What had he been thinking about?</p><p> </p><p>He blinked the stars out of his vision. This image-or maybe it was a voice or something-it kept flying through his head. He couldn’t get a grasp on it to figure it out. He knew it had to do with Sam, and of all things…it made him <em>really</em> sad. He didn’t like thinking of it, but it was like a puzzle. The kind of puzzle that stabs your fingers every time you make a wrong move, but you can’t stop trying to solve it because it keeps flashing these bright lights and loudly beeps constantly at you when you stop.</p><p> </p><p><em>Note to self:</em> Max thought. <em>Work on making a new finger-stabbing puzzle</em>.</p><p> </p><p>What was he just-Oh! Right! Sam. Guy was weird. Not, like, super sketchy, keep-a-subtle-eye-on-him-in-public-and-never-be-alone-with-him kind of weird, but definitely different from the laid back dog Max was comfortable with. He was stutter-y and closed off. Max knew he’d have to get to the bottom of it. But how? Sam had never hidden anything from him. Max had never had to figure anything out about the big doof. The guy had told him everything before. Why was it different now? He’d have to be clever about this.</p><p> </p><p><em>Thinking of ideas like that is so boring</em>. He whined in his head, leaning it against the cool concrete building. <em>Wouldn’t it be easier to just shoot him or something</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Max knew he wouldn’t shoot him…At least not yet.</p><p> </p><p>That could come later.</p>
<hr/><p>Max came back and the night/early morning proceeded as normal. Well, kind of. There was still some sort of tension in the air that Sam couldn’t shake. Like a fly constantly banging against the window, but refuses to leave even when the window opens. Just a constant little reminder. A constant little clicking noise in the back of his head that he couldn’t name. All he knew is that it was annoying him to no end.</p><p> </p><p>They had watched some more brainless nonsense on TV (seeing as they didn’t have a video for a proper movie night), though Sam hadn’t really absorbed any of it. In fact, he hadn’t paid attention to anything they’d done that night. His mind kept racing trying to figure out what was going on with Max and why it bothered him so much. Well, the obvious answer as to why it bothered him was because things were <em>supposed</em> to be back to normal, now. Max spacing out and everything feeling so <em>off </em>obviously messed with that concept a bit.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t speak much throughout the evening. Max had only made a few jokes about the junk they were watching on TV, and Sam had chuckled, but he hadn’t absorbed whatever it was Max had said. That awkward tension kept hanging low in the room. It only served to make Sam more uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>Sam really wanted a shower to clear his head, but only further disappointed himself when he remembered that their building still didn’t have running water. They technically weren’t even supposed to be in it as it was still closed for repairs, if the stairs were anything to go off of. They just couldn’t stay away. It was home.</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighed. He’d have to wait for the next day to go to Bosco Tech or something to shower. He wanted to brush his teeth, too. He just felt dirty. He wanted to wash this weird feeling away.</p><p> </p><p>He made the move to settle down for the night after the end of some old, made for TV movie he hadn’t paid a lick of attention to. He shut off the television set and led the way upstairs, Max stomping up behind him. They continued their nighttime routine as normal, aside from the lack of water. Sam grabbed his pajamas and changed in the bathroom (he had to keep a little modesty, even around Max) and hung up his suit to go to the dry cleaners. It was going to be a lot harder to transport the closet full of the things without the Desoto. Man. He’d have to look into getting a new car.</p><p> </p><p>After assuring that Max was in bed, the little rascal kicking up his blanket and twisting it in knots, he shut off the light and settled himself down for the night on his bunk. He let a deep breath out as he got cozy under his covers. Settling down like this eased a little bit of the tension between them. Or, at least Sam felt so.</p><p> </p><p>Every night since he showed up, Max had taken to leaning over the side of his bunk and staring at Sam. Always after the lights were out and they were getting ready to sleep. The first few times, when he saw Sam looking back (how could he not look back at the rabbit-y thing’s shadow?) he just sat back up and shuffled in his bed more, giving some one-liner or joke. Though, more recently…</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of, he could just make out the silhouette of the lagomorph peeking over the side of the bed and facing his way. Sam looked back for a moment before trying to find some other interesting shadowy object to grasp his attention. It made him really uncomfortable, having Max stare at him like that. It was even worse that he didn’t say anything this time. He just sat there…staring. It seemed to bring that tension Sam had almost forgotten about right back to the front of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat. “Uh, something wrong, little buddy?” He managed to get out, keeping his voice low for no real purpose. Maybe this would be good? Maybe if he found out why the little guy was acting so weird, he could help fix it? Maybe? He didn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>Max didn’t move for another moment before disappearing back over the edge of the bed. “Nope.” He dismissed, overly popping the ‘p.’ “Night, Sam.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam wanted to push it more. He wanted to talk about…whatever it was that had Max acting so loopy. He really thought it could help him sort out the awkward spell that they were going through. But being dismissed so quickly told him that Max was not willing to talk right now. Not to him. What was he going to do? Be a jerk and ask anyway? That would probably just make things worse.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay...” He responded, though he sounded as unsure as he felt. What else was he supposed to say? “Goodnight, little buddy.” He crossed his hands behind his head. He was tired, but didn’t feel like sleeping yet. He found his mind racing with thoughts again.</p><p> </p><p>Sam figured that whatever was bothering his little buddy involved him, somehow. Why else would he stare at him like that? Or, maybe the little guy was expecting him to talk about something else? Maybe he was just waiting for Sam to actually say it out loud, whatever was going through his head. Maybe Max was worried about him, too. Ugh, here he was thinking about maybes again. Maybe, this. Maybe, that. Maybe, maybe, maybe.</p><p> </p><p>Was this all about that other Sam? Max mentioned he had to blow him up. <em>Er, I think that’s what he said, anyway</em>. Sam thought. He didn’t really remember. Was something like that really sticking with his little buddy? Sam figured Max had completely forgotten about what had happened. Shoot, he forgot most everything else. Could this be different? He supposed that Max usually remembered important details…sometimes. But “important” varied wildly for the little guy.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe they were going through similar things. Sam figured that they’d both been through <em>something</em> that left them on their own. And they both involved giant monsters, in some capacity. Which was fitting, to say the least. But that didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would leave Max staring off into space. Or <em>thinking</em>. Sam figured nothing could phase the little guy. He only wished he could be the same.</p><p> </p><p>Every time he closed his eyes he was brought right back to those moments where he thought he lost Max. He had a few terrible dreams the past few nights about it, though he wouldn’t admit it. It felt like every time he slept, he was transported back to the exact moment he had to say goodbye. And every time he was always convinced it was his fault. It made guilt twist in his gut like a knife.</p><p> </p><p>It only made him feel worse when he reminded himself that he needed to let that original version of Max go. Max was <em>right here with him</em>. He kept asking himself why he was getting so worked up about the guy dying when he was two feet away from him. He couldn’t help it. This whole situation…it felt off. It felt <em>wrong</em>. It felt like there was a stranger in Max’s skin. A stranger that walked like Max and talked like Max and probably even thought of things like Max did, but it was still a stranger. Still someone Sam didn’t recognize. Which still didn’t make any sense and only served to make him more frustrated.</p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted as Max grunted something and the bunks shook and creaked. He took this as a sign to worry about this another time. Not now. He should just try and rest, he reasoned. It’s not like this Max was going anywhere, especially since they were on break from cases per commands of the commissioner. They’d get through this, just like they got through everything before.</p><p> </p><p>They just needed a little more time.</p>
<hr/><p>Max awoke with a sudden start. He gasped for air and sat up fast enough to smack his head on the ceiling with a resounding thud, which made him flop back down onto the bed, causing the bunks to groan and shift dangerously. He rubbed the new, additional bump on his forehead. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Was that a nightmare? He had already forgotten it. Ooh! Were those the icy cold claws of fear gripping him and making him shiver? Cool! This must’ve been what most people felt when they saw him! Though, the more he thought about how difficult his breathing was, and the more his body shook, the less appealing the feeling got.</p><p> </p><p>What was that dream? Part of him cursed his poor memory, already completely forgetting. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, being woken up by some sort of freaky dream. Though Max could never remember what they were. All he knew was that he did <em>not</em> like the feeling when he woke up. He was all clammy and his breathing was heavy and he felt like throwing up, like that time Sam tried to actually cook<em>. </em>Max could eat a lot of inedible gruel, but Sam’s cooking phase crossed the line.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of, Max poked his head over the side of the bunk to see if he’d woken the guy up. After a moment watching the dog snore, the blanket tangled on his body with one foot haphazardly sticking out of the side of the bed, Max laid back down. Some annoying, rational part of his brain said he should just go back to sleep, but he was way too energized now. Besides, he thought he had shut that part of his brain up permanently years ago.</p><p> </p><p><em>Time to get the DIY Lobotomy kit!</em> Max thought with glee, kicking his legs slightly to get them out from under his covers and causing the bunks to shake. He stopped, lest he woke Sam up, despite him doing more annoying things in the night. Was it night, still? Knowing his luck, it’d be daytime again. Then he’d have to sit awake by himself until Sam woke up, which was <em>sooo boring</em>. He seriously considered dropping something on the dog or kicking him to wake him up or something, but couldn’t bring himself to. He was only unnecessarily cruel to Sam when the guy could put up a fair fight.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he wasn’t going back to sleep. Not right now. He could engrave his name into the side of the bunk again, but he didn’t particularly like the taste of the wood. He’d told Sam to get a better bunk to chew on, but the dog always just laughed in response. Oh well. Guess he’d better entertain himself in the office, where he could run around and do whatever he wanted. Maybe Flint was here and had a cool detective story to talk about! That was enough to convince him.</p><p> </p><p>Max scooted to the edge of his bed and leapt off gracefully. He landed with a thump on the wooden floor by Sam’s sleeping form, the dog still snoring peacefully, his arm hanging off the side of the bed. Shoot, if only they had some warm water and a bowl. A feather and some shaving cream, at least. Max ‘tsked’ to himself and briefly mourned the lost prank opportunity before opening the bedroom door and stepping into the bright hallway.</p><p> </p><p>Yup. Definitely morning. Early morning. Sun was barely up. Max stared challengingly at the light peeking through the hole in the ceiling. He blinked. “Darn, you win again!” He cursed the ball of gas that he couldn’t even see before forgetting about it and blinking the tired feeling out of his eyes as he made his way down the creaking, broken stairs to their office.</p><p> </p><p>The telltale signs of Flint beating a potential perp didn’t meet Max’s ears as he opened his office door, which disappointed him to no end. What he wouldn’t give to hear some of Flint’s cool crime busting stories. He wondered if the detective had a bunch of different ones than the Flint in his old timeline. He missed his old Flint.</p><p> </p><p>Max stepped into the office, forgetting about Flint as he did so. The sun’s early morning light barely shone through the open window. All things considered, it was rather peaceful. <em>Horribly</em> peaceful. Though it looked like dark clouds were looming off on the horizon, threatening to roll in. It had been a while since it had stormed last. He assumed. Honestly, he couldn’t remember. There was something about a storm…</p><p> </p><p>He turned his head back to the office itself, ignoring that weird feeling that started brewing in his gut. It was all still the same as always. Still the same as it had been last night. He fiddled around with some stuff as he walked past it. He flicked the coat hanger/antenna on their TV, wiped an unknown sticky substance off the corner of his desk, and leaned down to see if Jimmy Two-Teeth still bummed around in his little hole. It was all the same. Though Jimmy was gone. Too bad. Max kinda wanted to throw the rat across the room. Or throw darts at him.</p><p> </p><p>He stood back up and turned and faced the room. It was quiet. Again. Max hated the quiet. He wished Sam would just wake up already. Being around Sam usually distracted him from…what <em>was</em> he thinking about, anyway?</p><p> </p><p>Must’ve been that dream, right? But he couldn’t remember a thing about it, even if he really tried. Maybe it had to do with crabs…? Or lighters that were out of fuel? He stuck his tongue out.</p><p> </p><p>Dreams were dumb anyway. That’s why he didn’t remember any of them. Even the good ones…which he definitely had. Often. Probably. He couldn’t remember. He didn’t like the feeling that he woke up with today, though. Well, it <em>was</em> kind of cool, but at the same time it made him feel…small. Which was kind of dumb, because he was already small, but it made him feel smaller. Or like he wasn’t the most lovable, coolest, most badass freelance police officer ever. He hummed.</p><p> </p><p>He supposed there was nothing to do about it, now. He wasn’t going back to sleep, and he didn’t feel tired at all, anyway. Not in the slightest. He stifled a yawn. <em>Damn you, natural instincts, for your betrayal!</em> He silently cursed as he stretched. He still wasn’t going to sleep, despite his body’s protesting. He’d just have to keep himself up while waiting for Sam. Maybe he’d get some cereal. Highly processed lumps of candy-colored sugar usually cheered him up in the mornings. That, or he could stick some aluminum foil in the microwave.</p><p> </p><p>No, he couldn’t do that. He liked the microwave too much to ruin it.</p><p> </p><p>He walked to the couch and hopped on it, swinging his legs off the side, as they didn’t quite reach the ground. It was too quiet and boring in the mornings. Good thing the commissioner never called them this early. Max would have a few words for their mysterious employer if he ever did…and the lagomorph actually managed to answer the phone, of course. Two unheard of events.</p><p> </p><p>Max sighed, bored of whatever it was he was bored of.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam didn’t necessarily wake with a start from a bad dream or anything, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut when he did stir to consciousness. He almost felt sick. But he hadn’t been sick since that time Max accidentally gave him whooping cough. Accidentally in quotes.</p><p> </p><p>He sat up quickly. Too quickly. He clutched at his stomach and instinctually gave a quiet whimper. It wasn’t pain, necessarily. Just a really, <em>really</em> uncomfortable and anxious feeling. Like there was something <em>seriously wrong</em> and he needed to fix it. Maybe he was just hungry? Nah, he’d had hunger pangs before and they definitely weren’t like this. Definitely something else.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly stood and turned to the bunk, already knowing Max wasn’t there. Maybe that’s what it was. Something with Max. Actually, scratch the maybe, he was 99% sure that the little goof had something to do with it, intentionally or not. It was really unusual for the guy to get up so early. It was starting to worry him. Max had never really enjoyed going to bed, but he had always been a sound sleeper. And he loved sleeping in. Couldn’t stand mornings. Sam was starting to have trouble believing this was just a timeline difference, either. Max had been a late riser ever since they were kids.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t waste any time. He went to the closet, changed into his signature suit (it felt weird leaving the third floor in his pajamas) and tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He only took another moment to gather himself and take a deep breath before opening the bedroom door and preparing to face the onslaught of bright light from the morning sun.</p><p> </p><p>Though, when he did open the door, he found it wasn’t too terribly bright. It only took him a moment to blink and adjust. It was definitely still morning, but it must’ve been early. He passively wondered how long he’d actually been asleep as he stepped into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>He descended the stairs to the office as quickly as he could while still being sure not to slip and fall. He had almost gotten used to the holes in the stairs. Almost. He couldn’t wait for the repairs on the building to start up, though.</p><p> </p><p>He opened the office door just a crack and poked his head in. It took him a moment to actually see Max, sitting completely normally on the couch. Which was really odd. He wasn’t even chewing the arm rest or reaching into the cushions and eating whatever he could grab without looking. Just sitting. Staring at the floor. With his hands clasped together. His legs weren’t even bouncing.</p><p> </p><p>Just sitting. Like he was in a waiting room, or outside of the principal’s office at school when he’d known he’d done something wrong and felt guilty. Max had sat outside of the principal’s office several times when they were kids, but he’d never felt guilty. Sam didn’t think the guy even knew what guilt felt like. It was…almost sad, seeing him like that. Unnerving, at the least.</p><p> </p><p>It was like all of his worries both disappeared at seeing him, and magnified a hundred times. Max was here. He was fine. But he <em>wasn’t</em>. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Which was <em>also</em> dumb because they’d had multiple interactions with ghosts and none of them were anything like advertised. All the dog knew was seeing his little buddy like that made his stomach drop.</p><p> </p><p>Sam opened the door fully and stepped inside. He simply shut it behind him, wordlessly walked over the couch, and sat next to Max. He couldn’t explain why. It just…felt like the right thing to do. The cushions were uncomfortable and sagged under his weight, and there was a spring digging into his butt, but he stuck with it, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>So they sat there. Sam wasn’t even sure if Max had noticed him step in. He hadn’t looked up at all when Sam had opened the door, and he seemed really out of it. He looked tired. His eyes drooped as he stared at a few cracks in the floorboards. Sam retracted his earlier statement; it was <em>definitely</em> sad, seeing him like this. Didn’t help the knots that twisted in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>He figured he should say something, but it felt like there was something lodged in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to. What would he even say? How was he even supposed to go about voicing his worries? Max never wanted to talk about anything serious in any capacity. Surely he’d make fun of Sam for days if he even <em>thought</em> of creating emotional conversation. Sam furrowed his brow as they sat in silence.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t change that it worried him, that he couldn’t bring himself to properly ask Max about it. It just added frustration. It made him feel powerless. Max probably hadn’t slept much at all since he got here. Sam found himself too exhausted at night to try staying up long enough to ensure Max slept before he did. Max was always up first, too, these days. Lack of sleep, spacing off, staring at him over the bunk. It was definitely concerning, if not slightly creepy.</p><p> </p><p>What had the guy so worked up? What was running through his head to distract him? Sam could think of several things, many of them jokes, but none that would explain why it happened so often. Except one. This other Sam. That was the only thing it could be. But Max had already explained the fate of the other Sam. He seemed fine with it. Was it a lie? Did he not remember? Sam couldn’t really believe that.</p><p> </p><p>Or, maybe he could and just didn’t want to.</p><p> </p><p>It made Sam feel even worse. He didn’t want to say why. But the idea that he could die, and Max might not even remember it. Remember <em>him</em>. It…hurt. It hurt a lot. It made his stomach twist in tighter knots. He knew Max had troubles with memory, but the very idea of something like that…it almost made him feel unimportant. Unwanted. He kept twisting the knife as his thoughts spiraled.</p><p> </p><p>Clearly, Max didn’t trust him enough to talk about whatever was bothering him, which he knew didn’t make sense because they were lifelong best friends, but it was still what he thought. Max had made his lack of cooperation abundantly clear when Sam asked about it last night.</p><p> </p><p>Sam knew things between them were strange right now, but they were still best friends. Or, they were supposed to be. He knew he shouldn’t have blamed the guy for not wanting to put any kind of strain on the relationship by bringing up his problems, but, heck, at this point, Sam might even be happy to listen. If it got them through this funk, he might not even make fun of the idea of talking about their feelings with each other. But Max’s resistance to it only served to make him feel worse.</p><p> </p><p>Part of Sam couldn’t believe he actually missed Max enough to completely breakdown about it, especially when it was clear Max didn’t value him the same way. Honestly, sometimes Sam wasn’t sure why he bothered. He went to <em>so much trouble</em> to try and save Max. He demanded so much out of all of their other friends to turn him back to normal. Would Max even do the same for him? Sam was struggling to say yes.</p><p> </p><p>He suddenly snapped out of his brooding by a soft thump, and a strange weight leaning against the side of his arm. He turned his head to look.</p><p> </p><p>Max had slumped over from his neutral sitting position and leaned his head on the side of Sam’s arm. His leg twitched, slightly. His breathing deep. He was…asleep? He was asleep <em>on Sam?</em></p><p> </p><p>Well, that was unexpected.</p><p> </p><p>Sam rolled his eyes, <em>this</em> close to nudging his arm to wake the guy up, but paused just before doing so. Max was asleep. Hadn’t this been what he was <em>just</em> worrying about? That Max wasn’t sleeping? This wasn’t something he could take lightly.</p><p> </p><p>He flicked his gaze to the other side of the couch, weighing his options.</p><p> </p><p>Option 1: Wake the little fuzz ball up. Go about the day as normal. Have it lead to more of those uncomfortable, awkward situations with him. Have the little guy space out again. Multiple times. Be worried about his sleep patterns. Have nothing change for the better.</p><p> </p><p>Or…</p><p> </p><p>Option 2: Let the guy sleep. Have a different kind of uncomfortable, awkward situation when he woke up. And…</p><p> </p><p>That was it. He didn’t know what it would otherwise lead to, if it lead to anything. All he knew was that Max probably hadn’t slept in who knows how long, and Sam made a pretty good pillow. <em>Watch it</em>. Sam thought.</p><p> </p><p>He already knew which of the two options he’d go with before fully weighing them. There’s no way he’d wake the guy up. It felt cruel. And, surprisingly, letting him sleep eased some of the tension Sam held in his stomach. It made him feel a bit better. Like all of the concerns and worries he’d just had vanished for a little while.</p><p> </p><p>It was…nice.</p><p> </p><p>Obviously, he would have to deal with Max when he woke up. That would be tricky. Surely he’d ask why Sam hadn’t nudged him, and while Sam could start the accusation game, asking why the lagomorph hadn’t been sleeping in the first place, it didn’t feel right. Max would get defensive and shut him out. He’d have to play innocent. Help from the sidelines. He was probably better at that, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Sam leaned his head back, his hat sitting uncomfortably on his head against the back of the couch. He looked up at the ceiling. So the plan was to just…sit here? This is why he didn’t usually do plans. Sam tried to not stare at Max leaning against his side, despite his own arm being used as a makeshift pillow. It felt <em>weird</em> watching him while he slept, or acknowledging him. Though, that didn’t seem to stop Max at night. It was strange, having this kind of contact. They’d been best friends forever, but something like this was foreign to them. It was uncomfortable. Sam didn’t know how else to describe it.</p><p> </p><p>He let out a long breath. Who knew how long Max would be out? He silently wished he’d sat a bit more comfortably, seeing as he’d probably be here a while. Oh well. He supposed it wasn’t a big price to pay.</p><p> </p><p>Using his free hand, he took his hat off so it wouldn’t get squished and set it to his side. He was careful not to move much, lest Max wake up. He wasn’t about to have all of his efforts go to waste.</p><p> </p><p>He stole a glance at the sleeping lagomorph. The little guy unconsciously readjusted himself and leaned more heavily on Sam’s side. Sam instinctually wanted to move away, but didn’t. He held back. This was so strange and…embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p><em>Just remember that this is for Max’s health</em>. He reassured himself. <em>Someone has to keep tabs on him. You know he won’t take care of himself</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t do much to ease his discomfort, but it kept him from edging away. He used his free hand and rubbed at his eyes. Might as well try to get comfy.</p><p> </p><p>He would be here for a while.</p>
<hr/><p>Max found himself slowly and groggily opening his eyes…somewhere. It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend where he was and what happened. There was a weird, unnatural, and <em>warm </em>breeze on one of his ears, making it twitch. His head periodically rose and fell on the pillow he found himself on. Speaking of, he didn’t remember his pillow being so <em>bony</em> last time he used it. And why was he sleeping like he was half sitting down instead of laying comfortably in his bunk? And why was Sam snoring <em>so loud</em>?! It sounded like he was <em>right in his ear</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He grumbled and prepared to lean over his bunk to yell at Sam when he realized…he wasn’t in his bed. He was in the office. He hardly even remembered waking up and coming down here. Was that <em>this morning</em>? Wow. Had he really passed out on the couch? That was embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>He was about to laugh it off and get up when another snore loudly startled him, and his pillow rose and fell again. It only took him another moment to process that, too.</p><p> </p><p>Not a pillow.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that explained the bony feel. And the loud snores. And the rising and falling. Didn’t quite explain the how. Or the why. He had to blink for another moment as the gears in his brain slowly started turning.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, so one second he was awake, looking through the office for something to do to stave off the horrible boredom that came with early mornings. And he sat on the couch…And the next thing he could remember, he was waking up now. Not much to go off of. When had he passed out? Had Sam seen him passed out and done this as a prank? Guy needed some serious prank pointers if this was his idea of humor. Max could do <em>way</em> better.</p><p> </p><p>Another moment, another snore, and Max’s brain finally seemed to fully register the situation.</p><p> </p><p>He was <em>literally leaning on Sam’s arm like something out of those cheesy, horrible romance movies</em>. Max almost gagged. Did Sam know? Before the doof fell asleep? Why had he sat there? Why didn’t he wake Max up? How long had they been laying like that? Why did he feel <em>so well rested</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Max had to pause at that one. He <em>did</em> feel well rested. He didn’t even feel shaky or freaked out for no reason. Couldn’t remember a thing from his dream, if he’d had one. But he felt <em>good</em>. Ready to run around and be his usual self for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, back to internally freaking out.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no way Sam would ever intentionally fall asleep with him on the couch like this, right? Sam was too bumbling and clumsy for something like that. And if the guy had wanted to confess his undying love for Max (who could blame anyone for falling for him) or desires to cuddle, he probably would’ve done so when Max arrived in the elevator. His last Sam had never given any indication for having any desires like that, and he was with the guy right before he had to kill him.</p><p> </p><p>Max blinked at that. He…remembered that? He wracked his brain. There wasn’t much. A hug. Much like the one sleeping Sam right next to him had given him when he arrived. Except that other hug with that other Sam was different. He couldn’t fully remember. It was…<em>sad</em>. Like a goodbye. Which would be fitting, seeing as how Max had to blow him up. That would make sense. But it also made sense to Max how much he wanted to punch Sam or smack him in his dumb face right now. So, maybe his reasoning wasn’t quite all there.</p><p> </p><p>What was he thinking about?</p><p> </p><p>Oh, right. Sam. And him. Sleeping. <em>Weird</em>. He couldn’t get it out of his head. Something about it left an unpleasant and sick feeling in him. Made his stomach do flips. Max wondered if he was gonna puke all over the dog, which would be pretty funny, but he didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>It also only occurred to him after another loud snore in his ear that he was <em>still</em> leaning on Sam. Why hadn’t he sat up yet? Did he forget to? Was it that…he didn’t want to disturb the sleeping dog?</p><p> </p><p><em>Pffft! Yeah right!</em> Max thought, laughing to himself. Leaning like this helped him think. He actually remembered some stuff. Which was good. Or, he assumed it was good, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he did not want to risk being like this when Sam got up. Guy wasn’t the heaviest sleeper, despite what his snores may say, so he had to be kinda quiet. Which still stunk.</p><p> </p><p>Max sat up, subconsciously avoiding brushing his ears against the dog’s sensitive snout and waking him. Or having the guy sneeze all over him. As funny as that would be, he didn’t want to be covered in mucus right now. Sam shifted slightly, but otherwise didn’t really stir from his awkward, sitting slumber.</p><p> </p><p>Max hopped up off the couch and silently landed back on his feet. He stretched out his arms, feeling his joints pop. Oh yeah. That’s the good stuff.</p><p> </p><p>His stomach suddenly rumbled. He looked down and patted it affectionately. This only further made him want to wake Sam up, so they could eat, but he didn’t yet. Instead, he walked over to the window, which was streaming some of the outside light in.</p><p> </p><p>He poked his head over the top of the window sill. He couldn’t really tell the exact time, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was close to noon. His focus wasn’t really on the sun, though. It was on the dark clouds rolling in. They were <em>definitely</em> closer than they had been this morning. Looked like they were in for a storm. Max wondered if Sam would let him stand on the roof with a self-made lightning rod this time. He’d always wanted to be struck by lightning, just to see what it was like.</p><p> </p><p>Already bored thinking about the weather, Max hopped away from the window. His stomach growled at him again. Hmm, this didn’t seem like something a simple microwave meal would fix. Sam would probably be hungry, too. Guy was always hungry, if his giant gut was any indication.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, an idea popped into Max’s head. An idea that didn’t involve gnawing on something or blowing something up. A <em>strange</em> idea. An idea that, under normal circumstances, Max would’ve made fun of. Something must’ve been up with him. He nodded to himself, surprisingly focused, and approached the sleeping dog.</p><p> </p><p>Max could actually be pretty sneaky if he wanted to be. Little guy was light on his feet, and he had slippery, grabby little fingers. He would’ve been a pretty great criminal if he didn’t love justice and chasing shady dudes around so much. Plus, there was no feeling like slapping cuffs on someone.</p><p> </p><p>Sam was still passed out. He continued snoring. Max almost paused. Wouldn’t it make him just another criminal to do what he was doing? He quickly shrugged. <em>Nah</em>. He was just doing something Sam would’ve done himself if he were awake. Besides, he was doing the big guy a favor. He’d <em>thank</em> Max for this. Grovel at the lagomorph’s feet as he should. Besides, it’s not like this would be the first time he “borrowed” something from the doof.</p><p> </p><p>Sam’s head was cocked to the side, surely his neck would be sore when he woke up. His hat was on the seat of the couch on his side. The arm that Max hadn’t been using as a pillow was crossed lazily over his lap. He looked…peaceful. Disgusting. It only made him want to hit the guy even more. Max seriously hoped he hadn’t looked that peaceful when he slept. He shuddered to even think of it.</p><p> </p><p>Max slowly and steadily reached out and grabbed the lapel of Sam’s jacket. He stuck his tongue out in concentration as he pulled on the fabric, his brows furrowed. Thankfully, Sam’s arms weren’t crossed over his chest. That would’ve made things much more difficult. Though, he supposed he had himself to thank for that, by using Sam’s arm as a pillow. <em>Another brilliant plan by me.</em> He thought, knowing full well the entire situation was not planned.</p><p> </p><p>Max leaned precariously over Sam’s lap, he had to stand on tip-toes in order to reach. He almost lost his balance a few times, but recovered beautifully. He reached his other arm forward as he held the jacket open in one hand. He reached into it and felt around until he found the pocket hidden inside. Jackpot. He reached in and grabbed Sam’s wallet. Guy only kept cash in it. Max was pretty sure Sam never even got his license. Max didn’t have one, anyway. What was anyone gonna do? Who was gonna stop ‘em? The cops? They <em>were</em> the cops!</p><p> </p><p>Max <em>was</em> just gonna take enough cash for his plan, but decided to just hang onto the wallet for now and not risk waking Sam up and having to explain by trying to put it back. He was already in too deep. He’d give it back. Probably.</p><p> </p><p>Max let go of the jacket and backed away from Sam’s sleeping form towards the door, silently fist pumping his successful heist. Man, he was actually pretty good at this sneaky, thinking, planning thing. See? He could do more than just savagely terrorize and maim stuff. Now <em>that’s</em> character development!</p><p> </p><p>It was only as he began exiting the building that the realization of what he was doing hit him. He was…doing something <em>selfless</em> right now. Well, mostly selfless. It was still Sam’s money. But he was the one going out of his way. And Sam hadn’t even asked him to. He was just…doing it. He only hoped Sam wouldn’t wake up before he got back. That’d be a pain to explain.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that sleep messed with his head or something. Maybe Sam planted some kind of worm into his brain. This was very unusual for Max, and he almost thought about turning back. He could just forget this whole venture and pretend nothing happened. This whole day was already weird, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Max woke up right next to a sleeping Sam on the couch, he managed to do something sneaky, and more surprisingly, he was doing something nice? Something was definitely going on with him.</p><p> </p><p>But don’t worry. He forgot all of that a moment later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter is shaping up to be a long one.<br/>I'm about halfway through chapter four and have plans for chapter five.<br/>I'll keep working to bring you them as soon as possible :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Full of Surprises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow! My first chapter that crossed the 10,000 word mark :O</p>
<p>Make sure to take breaks and stretch when consuming any form of media for extended periods of time :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam awoke when something (or rather, some<em>one</em>) prodded him on the side of his face, squishing into his cheek. It didn’t startle him to full alertness, but it certainly did the job of making sure he wasn’t asleep anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wait, he’d been asleep? When did that happen? He cursed to himself mentally as he gave an unintentional yawn. He must’ve dozed off while sitting there with Max. Darn it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinked a few times, grumbling a little and rubbing his eyes, before straightening up and looking towards the provoking poker. It was Max, of course. Who else would it be? Though Sam was surprised the guy didn’t jump on him or throw a bucket of water on him to wake him. This was pretty tame for the lagomorph.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max was standing directly in front of him. He had been on his tiptoes to reach, but rocked back onto his heels when he saw he had succeeded in waking the dog. He had one arm holding something not-so-subtly behind his back. His other arm retracted from Sam and joined his other in supporting whatever he was hiding. He had a mischievous look on his face. One that told Sam the little guy was probably up to something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was caught off guard by the sudden situation he found himself in, and didn’t know what to say at first. He was still trying to get his brain moving out of sleep mode. It was quiet for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t help but feel a bit squeamish, considering the whole…sleeping together on the couch thing. He was absolutely regretting not waking the guy. If he’d just shaken Max off, this wouldn’t have happened. There was a whole new kind of knot in his gut that he couldn’t shake. It was strange and uncomfortable. He must’ve made a face, because Max tilted his head, raised an invisible eyebrow, and gave half a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jeez, Sam. You look like an overly hormonal adolescent seeing a bare chest online for the first time. Relax.” Always classy, Max was. The little guy brought out whatever he was holding behind his back. “I got lunch!” He grinned widely at his announcement. In his arms were two white, foam containers. The things audibly squeaked when the lagomorph moved them. No doubt they contained some form of take-out, greasy goodness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took Sam another moment to process what Max just said and presented him with, which was apparently too long for Max, who dropped the containers onto his lap, threatening to spill whatever contents were inside, and scrambled onto the couch to sit by him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam snapped out of his stupor enough to secure the containers and grab his hat which still rested at his side. He secured it back safely onto his head. He passed one of the containers to Max beside him, not bothering to check if they were the same or different. It didn’t really matter, they both ate just about anything. He avoided eye contact with the lagomorph and still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe this was a dream or something. Max had never gone out of his way to get Sam anything like this before. Though, to be fair, the dog still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t some kind of trap or prank. Especially given how suspicious Max was being. Well, he was always suspicious, but <em>especially</em> now. Sam would have to be careful and vigilant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had taken the container from him, but didn’t eat it all in one gulp yet. Very suspicious indeed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam eyed the lagomorph warily and popped open the seal of the warm container. He opened the chest of hidden wonders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Street tacos. With extra sour cream. He loved this stuff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He broke his gaze from the treasure in his lap and looked to the side. He saw Max open his own container, which contained the same thing. Little guy ripped a piece of the aluminum foil the tacos came in off and began twisting it eagerly in his hands. He paused and looked back at Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…What? Do I have something in my beautiful pearly whites?” Max paused what he was doing and cocked his head to the side, opening his mouth so Sam could get a better look. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dog snapped out of it right away, turning back to the food in his lap. “No, nothing…well, probably, with how rarely you brush them.” He shook his head to clear it. Bits of grease and juice dripped off pieces of the slop that could roughly be described as “meat” onto the soft flour tortillas in his container. He salivated. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting anything actually edible when you said you got food.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max put a hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “<em>Sam!</em> You honestly think I would trick you in such a heartless and devilish manner? I’m shocked! Disturbed! Insulted! Inspired!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…I’m pretty sure you meant that last one as a joke,” Sam started, “but I know that’s the only one of those emotions you listed that you’re actually feeling.” He pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max dropped the act, already forgetting to be offended. “Aw, he really does care!” He put a hand on his cheek and closed his eyes in adoration. “Good boy!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you call me that again, I’ll bend your arms so far back around you’ll end up left handed.” Sam deadpanned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Sam! You <em>do</em> know how to make a lady blush.” Max stuck out his tongue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet for a moment after that. Sam didn’t move to eat, yet. It’s not that he wasn’t hungry or he didn’t want to, he was actually a lot hungrier than he realized, it’s just that he was still in shock. Max had actually gone out and got something for him. It made him feel…kinda nice and warm inside. Made him feel bad for all of the negative stuff he’d been thinking before. Max really<em> did</em> care about him. Probably.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Did you go all the way to that old food truck without the wheels in that sketchy parking lot across the highway to get this?” He asked, picking up a small container of sour cream, casually inspecting it for foul play.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, please, Sam.” Max waved it off. “It was the only place within a two mile radius I haven’t been banned from.” He pointed out before placing a hand under his chin in thought. “Or, I guess <em>technically</em> that was a different me in this timeline, so maybe I’m <em>not</em> banned from-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, no, you definitely are.” Sam confirmed before trailing off. He went quiet again. His brain working overdrive. Max really went out of his way to get this. Wow. He walked <em>that</em> far? It was so unusual and unheard of that Sam was beginning to think the lagomorph was sick. Still, he wasn’t about to start complaining.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, I’m sorry for accusing you of pulling some prank here, little buddy.” Sam turned away, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It was…real nice of you. To get lunch. Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max snickered slightly before bursting into giggles. His laughter was free and genuine. Yeah, Sam should’ve seen that one coming. Was he getting too sappy and soft? He hoped not. He had half a mind to slug Max in the arm to make himself feel better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t have to thank me.” Max snorted, wiping an invisible tear as he came down from his laughing fit. “I mean, you <em>should</em>, but you don’t <em>have </em>to.” Sam still didn’t fully turn to face him as he pulled out the dog’s wallet and threw it to the other side of the couch. “After all, you’re the one who paid!” He snorted again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam watched as the wallet bounced on the cushion next to him. He instinctually placed a hand over his jacket pocket. It was empty. He turned back to Max. “You sneaky little devil! I would’ve broken your fingers if I’d known you did that!” He was giving a dumb grin, though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Get snappin’, then!” Max wiggled his fingers in Sam’s face, giving a wide, toothy smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had to laugh at that one. Not a little chuckle, either. A joyous and boisterous laugh, just at the situation as a whole. “You crack me up, little buddy!” He managed to get out as he grabbed his wallet and securely placed it back in his pocket. “Now let’s eat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t a moment later that he saw, just out of the corner of his eye, Max close his own container and shove the entire thing into his oversized maw. It would’ve been horrifying or slightly scaring if he hadn’t seen the same thing thousands of times now. The squeaking of the foam container as the little guy chewed on it made Sam cringe and grimace, though. Some things never changed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had half a mind to bring up what happened that morning, and maybe talk about it, but quickly thought better of it. The silence between them was actually somewhat palatable this time. It wasn’t filled with some awkward tension or expectation for one party to say something. It was a welcome change from everything else they’d experienced so far in the last few days. Well, it wasn’t completely silent. Max’s chewing and the horrible noise of the foam in his mouth was <em>definitely</em> loud enough for Sam right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He decided to just focus on eating and forget all of his concerns for a few minutes. He wasn’t about to take a personally delivered meal for granted. Especially from Max.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Max felt good. Probably because he had eaten. And slept. Wow, maybe he should take care of himself more often, if it made him feel this <em>alive</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Nah, self-care is for chumps</em>. He dismissed the idea with finality.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam took forever to eat, as usual. Max still didn’t get why the guy bothered with his hands, instead of just scarfing everything down all at once. Saved time. He ignored the fact that Sam was still a fast eater compared to most people for this argument. Max sighed to himself. Not everyone could be as forward thinking and efficient as he was, it seems.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Max had finished his own meal, he had taken to running around the office to entertain himself, like usual. He wasn’t about to just sit there. With Sam. On that couch which he had a sudden desire to tear apart. Running around was much better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, pacing helped him sort stuff out, and he had a lot on his mind. Stuff like fires. Cooking stuff on fires. Burning things in fires. Destroying stuff in fires. Important stuff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yet, something in his brain nagged at him. It was <em>so</em> annoying. Like Sam when he wanted something but couldn’t say it out lout like a normal person, and instead just gave this dumb puppy-dog (<em>not</em> saying that just because he’s a dog) look. Like, how was Max supposed to deal with that?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried ignoring the annoying nagging, but it just kept coming back and pestering him. But the most irritating part was when he actually tried to focus on it. He couldn’t figure out what this dumb voice in his head was saying. It was all garbled. Max had just about enough of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He found himself stopping in his tracks to concentrate more, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out. What was the issue? He slept and ate already, what more did his body want? It was seriously getting on his nerves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes shifted their attention over to Sam, too distracted by indulging himself in his meal to notice the look. Did it have to do with Sam? He narrowed his eyes. The guy seemed to be the center of a lot of Max’s issues lately. Maybe it was time to “take care” of him. Permanently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max quickly dismissed it. Shooting Sam wasn’t nearly as cool or funny as he would think. He’d done it before. And killing him would probably only serve to make the lagomorph sad again, and he hated being sad. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kinda liked the guy. Enough to put up with him at least. Though he’d never say that out loud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He supposed he could ask the big doof about it. Why the guy was the focus of all of his issues, that is. But with the way Sam’s been freezing up lately, he was sure he wouldn’t get a response that didn’t make him want to tear his hair out. What to do?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His thoughts were interrupted by Sam suddenly standing, closing the little foam container he was eating out of, and tossing it into the office trashcan. <em>Finally</em> he was done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing like a good meal, huh little buddy?” Sam asked, stretching his back out with a few pops.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, there’s also nothing like employing the seven secret, deadly techniques on punks in the back alleys of the Big Apple, but you don’t see me bringing that up.” Max sounded bored as he looked at the back of his hand. Sam just shook his head in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re impossible, little buddy.” He said with a chuckle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s what the doctors told me!” Max announced proudly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then, Sam had that look again and froze up. <em>Great, here we go again</em>. Max thought in annoyance. He was just about done with this dumb routine. If Sam couldn’t speak like a normal person, then Max would just have to hit him until he did.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But just as he was about to run up and start the beat down, Sam seemed to unfreeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, uh…” He noticeably gulped. “About…” He gestured to the couch nervously. It made Max’s ears burn, and his face felt warm, like that time he stuck his head in a pizza oven. “We, uh...aren’t gonna bring it up to anyone, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max snorted. “Uh, duh. If anyone knew I did something <em>nice</em>, they’d never let me hear the end of it. And I’d have to go on another killing spree.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve never gone on a killing spree.” Sam countered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just ignored that as he quickly bounced up to Sam’s side. “So now what, Sam?” He changed the subject. “Are we gonna patrol the streets again, like usual? Will we be stopping by a car dealership to get a new set of wheels? Will you finally be getting a gym membership?” He jumped around, listing ideas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam bopped him on the head with his fist to get him to stop. “Not quite, pumpkin head.” He readjusted his lapels. “I need a shower. And you probably do, too. Since we don’t have water, we’re gonna have to run to Bosco Tech.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Whaaaat</em>?” Max exaggerated. “You’re telling me I have to take my pristine, perfect body all the way to Bosco Tech just because you want to get sprinkled with water and bad tasting soap?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“’Fraid so, little buddy.” Sam ignored his complaining, opening the office door. “Only till we get the water running again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh, <em>fiiiiiine</em>.” Max threw his arms in the air. “Beats sitting here doing nothing.” He followed Sam and shut the office door behind him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t all bad. The walk, that is. Max could get out some of his excess energy as they moved. Still would’ve been better if they had the Desoto, though. He’d much rather cruise in style than walk…in style.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Phew, you feel that, little buddy?” Sam pulled on his collar and wiped his brow. He had to pause on the sidewalk to gather his breath. Man, was Sam <em>that</em> out of shape? Max had been joking before, but it seemed like a gym membership was definitely going into the guy’s Christmas stocking this year. “Air’s thick with humidity. Looks like we’ll be in for one heck of a storm.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max looked up. He couldn’t really see the clouds over the buildings from where he stood, but he had no doubt they were probably even closer than before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bring Hell or high water, Sam!” Max announced, beating his chest. “<em>I</em> am the greatest force of nature! Not some dumb storm!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just shook his head and kept going. Max took another moment to look at the sky before dropping his gaze to the road. There were people out filling in giant holes on the street. One of the buildings they passed had a giant chunk taken out of it, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Sam?” He asked, already anticipating what was going to come of this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, little buddy?” Sam turned and faced him, giving the lagomorph his full attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s with, uh…all of that?” He pointed at the damage. “I didn’t really notice it the first few days. The city’s not normally like this in this timeline, is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam gave that expression again. That dumb, frozen, deer in the headlights look, and Max already regretted asking. Mostly because of how <em>annoying</em> it was when Sam was like this. <em>Just spit it out!</em> He thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s, uh…” Sam scratched the side of his head and gave a sigh. “The, uh…other you. From this timeline. He did the damage to the city…” He trailed off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Max hummed. <em>Cool</em>. He thought, looking back at the damage. He was impressed with this other him. He didn’t say it out loud, though. He had <em>just</em> enough sense to know that Sam probably wouldn’t’ve liked that. He quieted down after that and they kept walking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At first, it was just like all of those other uncomfortable moments. Like Max felt like Sam was expecting him to say something or do something, but Max had no idea what. He hated that feeling. What did the guy want from him? Max was getting pretty tired of all of these weird silences that he was expected to fill. Don’t get him wrong, he could talk up a storm when he had some material, but Sam was giving him <em>nothing</em> to go off of right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it.” Sam interrupted Max’s mental tirade with a wave of his hand. “That’s in the past. Nothing to be done about it, now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, that was new. Max couldn’t help but wonder if the extra sleep and food was as good for Sam’s wellbeing as it had been for his own. Probably. He quickly forgot about it immediately afterwards, though. And they both continued walking quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite them not talking, this new silence between them didn’t grow into that same uncomfortable feeling it had been in before. Sam wasn’t frozen and stuttering like a kid giving their first presentation to their class. It was just like the old days. Good thing, too. Max was worried he’d have to do something drastic soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, not worried. The more accurate term would be “eagerly anticipating.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max also started feeling the warm, heavy, moist air around him as they neared Bosco Tech. It really <em>was</em> getting humid. He usually wasn’t bothered by stuff like that as easily as Sam was (another point against the clothes-wearers for overheating so easy). He was seriously hoping they wouldn’t be stuck at the lab when the storm hit. Sam would have a hay-day with all of the nerdy, techno stuff, but Max? He’d be bored to tears. <em>And</em> he’d get in trouble with Mama B for destroying her stuff when he inevitably had nothing else to do. Lose-lose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speaking of Sam, Max only noticed when he approached the door to the lab that the guy had stopped a few feet back, hands in his pockets and gaze flicked down at the sidewalk in front of his feet. <em>Great</em>. So much for a peaceful walk. Could he go two seconds without the guy freezing up or looking so <em>sad?</em> Max sighed and shook his head. If he didn’t feel so responsible for the guy, he would have just let Sam stay in dreamland-or wherever he went when he got like this-long ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, don’t make me hit you.” Max sped walked back to where Sam stood and snapped a few times directly in the dog’s ear. Sam seemed to <span class="u">snap out of it</span> at that. <em>Ugh, did you really just underline that</em>? Max thought. <em>You’re worse than Sam.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh? Whoops. Sorry, little buddy.” Sam shook his head a bit. “Guess I got a bit distracted again.” He looked up at the flag lazily fluttering in the slight breeze. “Here already, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yup!” Max announced, already forgetting the odd behavior. “Come on! I wanna go bother Mama Bosco!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max ran to the door and opened it wide, but yelped a little in surprise when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned back to face Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Actually, little buddy. You’d better go and shower first.” Sam noticeably gulped. “I, uh…I haven’t exactly explained that you’re here yet, and…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Ah-ha!</em> Max thought. <em>So the other me <span class="u">is</span> dead</em>. His pride in his presumably correct guess was cut short by disappointment. That was kind of a bummer, though. Max wanted to meet himself. Maybe get into one of those evil clone stand offs where Sam would have to shoot the clone and save the real him. And he would only know the real Max because of the secret passphrase they’d invented to combat such a situation. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that the other Max in this case would also be real and, therefore, also know the passphrase.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been excited about again?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well,” Sam interrupted his thoughts again. He should really pay more attention. “Needless to say, I’m sure everyone’s gonna be surprised to see you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll say, Sam!” Max smiled. “Every criminal we’ve stopped so far has been surprised, as well as a flurry of other emotions. Like fear, pain, terror, agony, horror-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re just going to keep describing the same two feelings with different words, aren’t you?” Sam interrupted again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yup!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been thinking about?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh yeah! Max wasn’t really insulted that Sam hadn’t told anyone he was here, probably because the guy had never had the opportunity. But he <em>was</em> disappointed that he wouldn’t get the chance to hop into the lab like nothing had happened to give this version of Mama Bosco the fright of her life. Then again...she had already been a ghost, so seeing him probably wouldn’t have been as cool as he’d anticipated. Probably. <em>Man, why’s everyone got to ruin all the fun here?</em> He thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max sighed. “Fine, ya party pooper. I’ll go first. I can’t promise there will be any soap left for you, though! You know showers make me hungry!” He waved over his shoulder as he stepped into the building, only to realize he didn’t really know where he was going. He turned back to Sam who threw him a key and pointed to a door down the hall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max turned the key, which hung loosely on a Bosco Tech keychain, in his hand. Weird. It felt familiar, but he couldn’t place where from. It was shiny and new, and it reeked of angsty, cringe inducing behavior. Gross.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Must’ve been from one of those dumb dreams or something.</p>
<hr/>
<p>After ensuring that Max knew where he was going, even going so far as to stand directly in front of the door so the little guy wouldn’t get lost, Sam took a deep breath and headed down the hall of Bosco Tech to the lab. Part of him couldn’t explain why he was so nervous and unsure about all of this, but a bigger part of him could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because this was unbelievable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hadn’t even really thought about it the few days Max had been there, mostly because he didn’t care about any of the hows or whys, he was just thankful to have the little guy back, but it was. It was unbelievable. Everyone had watched Max’s final moments as that horrifying Elder God. Everyone saw what had happened to him. They even already tried bringing him back via cloning with Mama Bosco’s machine. It hadn’t worked. And it had left Sam completely broken.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t want to think about the horrible mess he was after the cloning had failed. It all blurred together and he couldn’t fully recall if it had only been minutes after the failure that Max had come back, or days, or weeks. It was like he had repressed the entirety of that dark time because having Max back had patched up all of those wounds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most of those wounds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He still found himself thinking about his original Max. The one he’d actually been partners and best friends with. Which was <em>still</em> stupid because this Max was <em>literally the same person</em>. But it all still felt so <em>off.</em> What was he missing? He <em>knew</em> he shouldn’t have been thinking about it like he was, but it was like he had put up this mental wall that kept repeating in blinking neon lights “This is not really your Max” and he couldn’t see anything beyond that. Everything was supposed to be normal now. Everything about the guy was the same.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So why couldn’t he see that?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to ignore his growing frustration with himself. All things considered, they actually had a pretty good day so far. Mostly. Sam had been there for Max and Max had been there for Sam. That was familiar. Just different from how they usually went about things.  And he still wasn’t fully sure how to feel about that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shouldn’t complain. Max had gone out of his way for him already, he should’ve just accepted that and moved on, but he kept getting caught up on it. It was so unusual. So strange. So…<em>not Max</em>. It made accepting that this was still his little buddy kind of difficult.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But, then again, hadn’t he been acting differently, too?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hadn’t he been spacey? Hadn’t he frozen up anytime anyone mentioned his old Max? Was he really in a place to call out current Max for his behavior? <em>At least I haven’t done a complete 180</em>. Sam thought to reassure himself and remove some of his self-consciousness. It didn’t really work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stepped onto the platform to lower himself down into the lab below as his mind continued to race. He didn’t bother checking if Mama Bosco was down there before he did so. She always was. He descended silently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stepped off of the elevator onto the cold metallic floor of Bosco Tech labs. He approached Mama Bosco, who was fiddling with some machine with a…radar looking thing and some other weird looking screen on it. She continued clacking away at her keyboard, not breaking her gaze from the fast moving text on the screen. He almost felt bad for interrupting her when she was so focused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seeing her like this only reminded Sam further of how normal things were again. And how weird that normalcy felt. He looked around the lab. It was the same as always. Same as it was when he lost Max. Very strange. It made him slightly uncomfortable, but he couldn’t say why.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He cleared his throat loud enough to get the scientist’s attention before he started overthinking things again. She jumped slightly at the sudden proximity of the noise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh! Sam!” She turned and put a gloved hand to her chest in surprise. Something Sam found her doing quite often lately. She should really invest in a bell or something on that elevator. “You startled me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry about that.” Sam wasn’t really sorry, but he didn’t want the conversation to die off into awkward silence. He’d been having enough of those lately. “Can’t think of too many other ways to snap you out of your work that don’t involve violence in some capacity.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s alright, don’t worry about it.” She waved it off as she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, a grin lining her face. “Nice of you to drop by, though! Haven’t seen you in a few days. How’re you holdin’ up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shouldn’t have been caught off guard by the question, but he was. Which was weird, as it was a completely normal thing to ask. He supposed he’d been so focused on figuring out how he’d explain Max’s presence that he hadn’t really thought about any other topics of conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, good. Fine. Same as always.” He spoke quickly in response after noticing he’d been stuck in his head again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, that’s good. You look better, too.” Mama Bosco nodded in gesture to him. “Hope you’re doin’ alright at your office. It’s still under repair, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam nodded. “Yup. Probably won’t be done for weeks at this rate.” He grumbled slightly. “Wouldn’t be so bad if we had the Desoto, still.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco gave a chuckle at that. “Sorry, Sam. I’d build you a new ride, but I’ve got my hands full here.” She gestured to the lab around her. “Maybe in a few weeks, if you don’t find somethin’ else. I can put in all the bells n’ whistles, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shrugged. “Walking’s not all bad. Could probably use the exercise.” He patted his stomach, though he didn’t comment further on it. He’d rather avoid any more conversations about his weight at the moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He paused whatever else he was going to say as he caught Mama Bosco giving him a look. He felt small under her gaze and shifted his attention somewhere else to avoid it. He shifted his weight slightly on his feet and stuck his hands into his pockets. Was she…expecting him to say something? Well, he <em>did</em> have something to say, but now he wasn’t sure how to go about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Somethin’ musta gotten you back in high spirits.” The scientist commented quietly, half to herself. “You haven’t looked this alive since before the whole monster mess.” She twirled a hand in the air on “monster mess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam gulped. He should’ve just said it already. Just ripped off the bandage and gotten it over with. But he hesitated, and now the words wouldn’t come out like he wanted them to. “Er, yeah…” He trailed off, unsure how to continue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looked at him expectantly for a moment before turning to the side, half shrugging. “Hey, you don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re back to your old self.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part of Sam was relieved that she was backing off, but a bigger part of him knew he was going to have to talk about this before Max came down to the lab and caused a whole mess of trouble.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, no, I’ll tell.” He quickly reassured her. “I kinda have to…” He mumbled that part and started scratching the back of his neck before stopping himself to kick the habit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco turned back to him. “Alright, I’m all ears.” She encouraged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Er, okay, so…” He gulped. “This’ll sound…<em>strange</em>, but, a few days ago…” He took a breath. “A few days ago, the most unbelievable thing happened.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gestured for him to keep going, intrigue on her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I still can’t explain how it all happened, but I took a walk after leaving here last time, and I walked all the way out towards the Statue of Liberty.” This was it. Just say it now! “And out of nowhere, a time travelling elevator opens behind me, and Max steps out! He’s here!” He found himself excitedly announcing the last part. Partly glad he actually managed to spill it and partly still reveling in the fact that Max was back at his side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco didn’t seem to register what he said at first, confusion was on her face. But when she did, she got this…<em>look</em>. She spoke gently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam…” She reached out and patted his chest affectionately. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…I think we might need to get you to talk to someone…more equipped to handle this kinda thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinked and stepped back a foot to get her hand off of him. “Huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I don’t wanna accuse you of bein’ dishonest, and it’s not your fault if this is how your grief manifests itself.” She continued her explanation. “But it won’t be healthy in the long run. I’ll call up that Sybil girl and we’ll talk this out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh?” Sam repeated, slightly louder, and blinked in realization. Was she implying…? “Do you think I’m making this up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t say makin’ it up, no.” She reassured. “I <em>do</em> think you believe what you’re seein’. But I also think you’re definitely hallucinatin’. I mean, come on, Sam. We all saw what happened to Max.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know, but-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you had been all out of sorts since we couldn’t bring him back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know that, but-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And, forgive me for sayin’ this, but you and Max both work in mysterious ways. It’s not outta the realm of possibility that you’d end up havin’ delusions like this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just, stop for a sec, Dr. Mama B.” Sam put his hands up. “I’m not making this up.” He tried to explain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure you don’t mean to, Sam. And I’m not upset at you for it.” She smiled warmly at him. “That’s why I’m gonna call Sybil and we’ll chat with her about it. Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I mean this <em>actually happened</em>.” Sam tried to get a frustrated word in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She just shook her head. “I’d best get to it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max is literally upstairs in your shower right now!” Sam huffed before she could get too far. She didn’t stop yet. “Just, wait until he gets out and then you’ll see I’m not as crazy as you think.” Well, he <em>was</em> as crazy as she thought, but not in the hallucinate-versions-of-your-dead-best-friend kind of way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looked sideways at him and sighed with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. “Fine. I’ll give it a few minutes, Sam, if it upsets you that much.” She stepped back to her machine. “Actually, I wanted you to check out this anomaly, anyway. It’s taken up all of my time.” She turned to the machine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anomaly?” He asked, trying to hide his intrigue as she typed away at the keyboard on the weird looking thing. The display next to the radar looking thing had text scrolling far too fast to read. There were a bunch of words Sam didn’t understand and words he <em>did</em> understand used in combinations that didn’t make any sense to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco kept her eyes focused on the keyboard. “Yup. Happened a few days ago. Some sort of blink. Or bend, or somethin’.” She explained, removing one hand from the keyboard to point at the little radar screen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tilted his head slightly. At first he didn’t really get it. There was a line of some kind on the screen, and it was constantly scratching up and down in some kind of weird graph-like sequence. Reminded him of the lines on a polygraph machine. Was <em>this</em> the anomaly? Didn’t look like much. Usually the word anomaly is associated with things like babies with giant stone heads (not calling out anyone in particular, of course).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hold on…” Mama Bosco hit a button on the keyboard. “There!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam watched with strained eyes, trying too hard to focus on the little line. It moved like it had been. Then, for a moment, there was a significant snap and bend in the line it produced. It only lasted for that brief second before going back to normal, but it was definitely noticeable. Weird.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What…is it?” He asked, impressed but unsure of what exactly he was looking at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She still didn’t turn back to him. She hammered away at the keyboard. “I’m still not sure. This guy,” she gestured to the machine, “monitors aspects of the space-time continuum, while also makin’ smoothies and shakes. I was tryin’ to get the two parts to work together so I could recreate any and every discontinued flavor to exist. Y’all just don’t have the good stuff these days. Not like when I was alive.” She blinked before continuing. “The first time, I mean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But since that anomaly, I’ve been tryin’ to piece together what happened. I’d been workin’ on this thing for a while now, and I haven’t seen anythin’ like it before or since.” She tapped a button by the little radar. It pinged in response. “I would chalk it up to a misreadin’ or an error, but I don’t make mistakes so that can’t possibly be it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…You made Bosco.” Sam pointed out. She froze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm…Yeah, I suppose you got a point.” She kept typing in silence after that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was about to comment further, but paused when a small form entered the edge of his vision. That was fast.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had stepped up next to him. His fur fluffed out and still noticeably damp. The guy had a finger pressed up against his mouth, signaling Sam to be quiet. They exchanged mischievous grins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is weird, though.” He pretended to be interested, knowing she wouldn’t face him yet. “Can I see it again?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smiled from where she was working, continuing to clack away at the keyboard. “You bet! I knew you’d be into it!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That bought them a little time. Max nearly snickered as Sam scouted where he was going to hide for the big reveal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you thought of any possible causes, yet?” He asked, trying not to draw suspicion or show off too much mirth in his voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She crossed her arms as she watched the little line move. “I’ve got some ideas, but nothin’ concrete yet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lay it on me, doc.” Sam said while Max stifled a giggle. The dog tiptoed away behind the table and ducked down, disappearing from the scientist’s view. All the pieces were in place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, it could be just some leftover effects from the monster attack, or some sort of balance shift in the universe.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t pinpointed it down, yet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you think it could’ve been caused by the sudden appearance of what is essentially a God amongst men into your universe?” Max asked behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Probably not, but-“ She turned around at that and froze. “Uh…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because I’ve felt some kind of change lately, Mama B.” Max scratched his head. “Sometimes I feel like I’m in the wrong place or something. Like maybe I took a wrong turn at the Mesozoic Era and ended up in some strange, backwards timeline.” She stared slack jawed. Max just shook his head and shrugged. “I know I’m supposed to have my time traveler’s license, but you have to be at least sixteen hundred years old and I just didn’t have time for that. Mistakes were bound to happen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam couldn’t help but snicker, eventually letting out a loud laugh from where he hid, sitting up so Mama Bosco could see him. Max soon joined his laughter. Now, both of the freelance police were in front of the awestruck scientist laughing their butts off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…<em>What</em>…?” She managed to get out between laughing fits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a while for the two to calm down. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed that hard. And it was <em>so</em> worth it. Partly because he got to prove Mama Bosco wrong, but also because he missed joking like this with Max.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The scientist just continued to stare in utter bafflement and disbelieve at the sight of Max in front of her. The rabbit-y thing didn’t shrink or shift under as she scrutinized him, unlike Sam. Max just calmed down from his laughing fit and stared back at her. It would’ve been a bit unnerving if Sam wasn’t too busy trying to calm down himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Max? Like…<em>Max</em>-Max? Like it’s really you?” Mama Bosco managed to ask in shock.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just nodded with a grin. “Yup.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam felt it again. That uncomfortable, awkward feeling. Should he say something? He should probably say something. He was the one that brought it up, and he brought Max here in the first place, after all. It should be on him to explain. All he had to do was speak up…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So…speak up!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hesitated again. Great. <em>Good going, Sam</em>. He mentally berated himself. This was supposed to be a good thing. Now that Mama Bosco saw Max was back, it would be much easier to announce it to anyone and everyone else. “So-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think I may need to schedule a double appointment with Sybil.” Mama Bosco gingerly placed the back of her gloved hand to her forehead. “Because I’m either goin’ crazy or Max is standin’ right in front of me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Mama B. Why should those terms be mutually exclusive?” Max innocently asked, clutching his hands together and leaning his head to the side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“B-but how are you…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here? Funny story, actually. I’d love to spill all of the details at brunch. Shall we schedule a meetup?” Max mimed pulling out a planner and flipping through the pages with an imaginary pencil. “I’m very busy, you know, but I <em>miiiight</em> be able to squeeze you in next Tuesday.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm, probably best to spill it all now, before she starts hyperventilating.” Sam pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine.” Max sighed. “I suppose if we make it quick I can still make my 3:00 appointment.” Max shrugged and tossed the imaginary planner over his shoulder and out of existence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco looked just about ready to faint. She leaned on the machine behind her for support and she shook slightly. Sam hoped she wouldn’t pass out. That would be awkward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure we’ll make it to your appointment.” Sam stepped up next to Max. “But, maybe take it easy on her, little buddy. Don’t want her dying on us. Again.” Sam then turned and pointed to the elevator. “Anyway, I’d best take my shower before this storm hits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, <em>hurry</em>, Sam.” Max shooed him away impatiently. “If I end up stuck here with you two nerds talking about your nerd crap, I’m gonna lose it!” He basically started shoving Sam towards the platform.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just chuckled, slowing his walk down dramatically. Max’s pushing barely moving him on the floor. “Well, maybe I’ll just caaaaaaaaasssssssuuuuuuaaaaaallllllyyyyyy wwwwwwaaaaaaaalllllllk rrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeaaaaaaaalllllllyyyyyyy sssssssllllllooooooowwwwwwllllllyyyyyy…” He slowed his speech down for emphasis, as if he were stuck in perpetual slow motion, just to tease the little guy. In response, Max pulled out his gun.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam…if you value having the use of both of your arms, I suggest you pick up the pace.” He threatened. Sam only laughed harder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, you cute little terror.” He held up his arms in mock surrender as he stepped at a normal speed onto the elevator. “I won’t be long.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>With Sam out of the way, Max turned back to the stunned Mama Bosco. Well, she looked a little less stunned, now. Now she looked more like she was pondering something that Max didn’t care enough about to ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sooo…you’ve got an unexplainable, unnatural phenomenon right in front of you.” Max gestured to himself to snap her out of it. “<em>And</em> I travelled across timelines, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Across timelines?” Mama Bosco echoed and looked to that big dumb machine behind her for a moment before furrowing her eyebrows and looking back at Max. “Tell. Me. <em>Everythin</em>’.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max cleared his throat. “Well, it all started when I was at the ripe age of-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not <em>that</em> everythin’.” She slid a hand down her face. “Just…everythin’ related to why you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max blew a raspberry. “Wow. Way to crush my young autobiographical dreams.” He muttered before hopping up onto her metal table and taking a seat on its edge. “Well, it all probably started on our last case.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You and Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Duh. Who else?” He continued. “Anyway, long story short, Sam got these whack-o mysterious powers which he had to use to stop this evil puppet thing from destroying the world. But somehow, they turned him into a giant monster? <em>Also</em> bent on destroying the world?” He put a hand on the side of his head. “I think? Honestly, I don’t really remember. I was kinda too awestruck and impressed Sam actually managed to do something cool for once.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, wait.” Mama Bosco stopped him. “A giant monster? Like, huge-gross-tentacles-and-stompin’-through-the-city giant monster?” She asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max nodded. “Yup. Of course, that’s not including the various power surges and the snapping of buildings like twigs…or femurs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Power surges?” She echoed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure. It was all really freaky. Like, being anywhere near the big doof made my fur stand on end.” Max explained, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. “And don’t even get me started on going <em>in</em> the guy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Goin’ in…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know! We went inside of him to…” He twirled his hand around and trailed off. He shrugged. “Important stuff! I think. I don’t remember. All I remember was how many times I told people it was <em>shocking</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco didn’t react to the bad joke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just grumbled. “Well, Sam would’ve liked that one…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, wait. Sam got freaky powers, and eventually turned into a giant monster?” She asked for clarification. Max gave her a look that said ‘I literally just said that’ before nodding. He swung his feet idly off of the edge of the table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But that’s…” She flicked her gaze back to the machine behind her as her brain pieced things together. “That’s exactly what happened here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I doubt it, lady.” Max deadpanned. “Last I checked, Sam was the same regular-sized doof as always.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I mean the one who turned into a giant monster…was <em>you</em>, Max!” She had a dramatic look on her face, and if this were some lame movie, lightning would strike behind her for added effect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah? I kinda gathered that already. Kinda hard not to notice the <em>awesome</em> craters and cracked buildings on the walk over.” He stretched out. “Loosen up, Mama B. You’re getting all weird on me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She paused the dramatics and cleared her throat in embarrassment. “Oh. Well. I suppose that makes sense. Anyway, what happened next?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happened next, when?” Max asked, forgetting what he was talking about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, after you went inside of Sam’s monster body.” She encouraged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max found himself stiffening slightly at the question. “Oh. I, uh…don’t really remember all of the details.” He looked to the side and gave half a chuckle. “Kind of a blur.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She just looked at him expectedly, silently asking him to continue anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But, after it all happened, after I had to blow Sam up or whatever, we tried to bring him back.” He explained. “We used Mama Bo-I mean, <em>your</em> cloning machine.” He looked down at the floor. “Didn’t work, though. Can’t remember why.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The DNA sample you had.” Mama Bosco explained. “It was probably too jumbled or corrupted to work properly. That’s…probably why Sam couldn’t bring you back here, either.” She trailed off for a moment before continuing with a shrug. “Either that, or you’re just too weird to clone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I prefer the term ‘unique’ myself.” Max corrected. “But sure, it was probably something like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anyway, I don’t’ really remember what I did after that, or for how long. The next thing I remember, I’m at Bosco Tech stepping into a new time travelling elevator specially made for me.” He stretched out his arms. Then he placed one hand under his chin. “Though, you didn’t put on the flame decals like I specifically requested.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She blinked at that. “<em>I</em> built the thing that brought you here?” She asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yup. Why’re you so surprised? Who else would’ve done it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She shook her head. “Well, I mean, it’s not that I’m surprised I built it. Somethin’ like that would be pretty simple, actually, but I don’t know why I’d let you mess with the time streams like that. Or let you hop into an alternate timeline.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “I wasn’t even sure it’d be possible <em>to</em> travel to other timelines.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m here! So you tell me!” Max was already tired of her dumb theories and questions. This was boring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you’ve been here for days?” She asked, ignoring him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A few. I dunno how many.” He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure the office calendar is from last year.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A few days?” She echoed. She’d been doing that a lot, Max realized. Echoing what he just said. It was almost as annoying as when Sam asks the same question over and over instead of just threatening to bust some kneecaps for quicker results. “Wait…” She seemed to piece something together. She turned her back to Max and began typing away at the little keyboard on her machine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had stopped paying attention. He grabbed a pen from the table and was throwing it around and clicking it annoyingly quickly. Whatever she was doing was way too nerdy for his tastes. He couldn’t believe that in a futuristic, sci-fi lab, the coolest thing he could think to mess with was a pen. Sam had better hurry…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it!” Mama Bosco slapped a palm to her forehead. Max was almost surprised she didn’t yell some lame scientific catchphrase with how suddenly she perked up. She turned to him. “You’re the anomaly, Max!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wow, really?” Max jumped up and stood on the table, arms outstretched in joy as he faked excitement. “I mean, that’s what they’ve been saying for years, but now there’s scientific proof?” He slumped his shoulders, dropping his arms. “You’re a little late to the party there, Mama B.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I mean you comin’ here is the anomaly!” She practically giggled as she pointed at the screen, showing some weird, bent little line. Max squinted at it. He really didn’t understand or care enough to. “<em>You</em> caused this!” She sounded giddy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s another phrase I’ve heard all too often.” Max sat back down. “And here I was hoping for something exciting.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco ran up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. He’d never seen her so excited. She wasn’t even this energetic when she came back to life. “This<em> is</em> excitin’!” She said far too loudly for someone standing so close as she shook his shoulders. “Do you know what this means?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max shook her off of him and shrugged. “You can go back to doing whatever other boring nerdy stuff you were doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes!!” She laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max paused at that one. “…Really?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah! I’ve been so focused on that darn anomaly, I haven’t had time for anythin’ else! Now that it’s taken care of, I can move on to more pressin’ issues!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max was joking when he said that. Maybe he should’ve added more sarcasm to his voice. He was expecting her to be excited about some scientific breakthrough with him being here, but that was it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you’re not gonna, like…kidnap me and subject me to a series of painful yet titillating experiments?” Max almost sounded disappointed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco shook her head, her joy dropping off slightly. “No? Why’d you think that?” Max just shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I dunno. Aren’t you worried there might be some long lasting effects on my interfering with the time stream? Didn’t you say that earlier?” He had already forgotten.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She nodded. “Sure. There’ll probably be some kinda side effects, but I don’t know how easy they’ll be to track.” She turned back to the machine and hit one button. The little, weird, bendy line disappeared off of the screen. “Most likely some perspective changes or some slight dimensional shifts. Maybe some vertigo. Nothin’ serious. Probably.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t really understand any of the things she just said, so he ignored them. Where was Sam? Why was he taking <em>soooo looong</em>? He either didn’t realize it’d only been a few minutes since Sam left to shower, or didn’t care. <em>Max</em> had gotten in and out of the shower in that short time, why couldn’t Sam?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco had said something else, but he didn’t catch it. Hopefully she wasn’t expecting a response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She turned and looked at him. Oh. She definitely was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh…” Max blanked. “Yes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco smiled at that. “Like what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Quick! The first thing that comes to your head</em>. “Spinning on a wheelie chair at a laser light show, tied down with lit firecrackers while someone plays smooth jazz over the loud speakers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She deadpanned. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope.” Darn. That usually worked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I asked if you noticed any potential differences or side effects from your bein’ here.” She spoke slowly so he would focus and understand, only a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” He asked before pausing to think. Had he noticed anything? Maybe involving a particular canine with whom he was very close to? Perhaps he had noticed how strange the guy had been acting and how distant he felt they were being? And maybe he wanted to voice his concerns about the behavior in a somewhat healthy and constructive way?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope. Not really.” He dismissed before quickly perking up. “Oh, wait! Actually, there is one!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really? Go ahead.” She encouraged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max opened his mouth and took a deep breath in preparation to tell her. He froze. She froze. She waited. They sat like that for another moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…You don’t got nothin’, do you?” She didn’t bother masking her disappointment or annoyance at the time waste.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max grinned wider. “Nope.” And he flopped back down onto the table, passing the same dumb pen idly between his hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been so concerned about a second ago? Something about side effects or changes? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t care enough to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh, wait! He knew what he was concerned about!<br/><br/></p>
<p>
  <em>How long Sam was taking in the shower!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had half a mind to run back upstairs and start banging on the bathroom door for a little motivation, but Sam probably wouldn’t like that. Guy was finicky about his privacy. Max didn’t know why. They already did everything together, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max ended up sighing from where he laid, bored again. If it rained all night, they wouldn’t be able to go out and stop crimes. Well, they could, but they’d both probably complain the whole time. Then Sam would start shivering and sneezing, and then he’d start complaining about that, too. <em>It’s not just a cold, Max. I have pneumonia</em>! He waved the pen around as he thought that in a poor imitation of Sam. Boo-hoo. Justice waits for no one. He clicked the pen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had stopped paying attention to Mama Bosco and whatever it was she was doing. It was probably lame, anyway. The adventures this pen were going on were <em>much</em> more fascinating. For now, at least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speaking of the scientist, she had approached the table where Max was sprawled out and leaned over him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I forgot how...’selective’ your hearin’ is.” She muttered a bit bitterly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max sat up quickly, almost colliding head-on with her in the process. “Yup! I only hear what I want to. Very selective.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She took a step back to create more space and shook her head. “If I wasn’t so glad to see you back, I’d be annoyed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a new one!” Max joyously proclaimed. “I don’t think anyone’s told me <em>that</em> before.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hummed. “Anyway, I asked about this ‘other me’ from where you’re originally from. I’m curious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about other you, you?” Max cocked his head to the side and threw the pen he was holding over his shoulder, forgetting why he was holding it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, how different was I to this me? Was I still the same? How did you convince me to build you that time travellin’ thingy?” She bombarded him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max took a second to think before shrugging his shoulders and giving a bored “Is that all?” He dropped his shoulders. “I’ve only been talking to you for the better part of a few minutes, but from what I remember, you’re pretty much the exact same. Which is kind of lame.” He perked up. “I know! Tell me your most embarrassing secret and I’ll know if it’s the same as the other Mama Bosco’s!” He stopped for a moment. “For science!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that gullible, Max. You’re the last person I’d ever trust with any kind of secret.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aww.” He kicked his leg out from where it hung off the edge of the table in disappointment. “You’re no fun.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So it was still the same me? Fascinatin’.” She crossed her arms over her chest in thought. “I suppose it makes sense. You’re the same as our original Max…at least, I think.” She shook her head. “And from what I can tell, both of our timelines went through pretty similar events. Makes sense everythin’s pretty much the same.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max was about to lay back down and ignore her again, but she kept going before he could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, how did you do it?” She asked. “Y’know, getting’ me to build you the time travellin’ elevator.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do you wanna know?” Max eyed her suspiciously.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She shrugged. “The, uh…idea crossed my mind…after you were gone, but I was way too nervous about messin’ with the time streams to actually do it. I wanna know how you convinced this other me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max paused for a moment, he stopped swinging his legs and dropped his gaze. He stared off to the side. “I, uh…” He hesitated. “I don’t really remember!” He suddenly admitted, a bit too loudly. “Sorry, but the only thing I know is that you built it and let me use it.” He flopped back down to avoid looking at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a lie. Surprisingly, he <em>did</em> remember that part. He couldn’t say why, but he remembered it all too well. But there was no way he was going to tell her what he did to get to use that thing. Part of him couldn’t believe he’d degraded himself so much just to end up in a place where he felt like he didn’t even recognize his partner for some reason and there wasn’t even another one of himself to keep him entertained. Someplace so lame. Maybe he’d made a mistake coming here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Mama Bosco couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Well, let me know if you remember any details.” She requested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t get too excited, Mama B. My mind is like a black hole. Or quicksand. Or the closet in our office.” He shrugged from where he was laying. “Stuff goes in and never comes out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been thinking about?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Memories, Mama Bosco…nope. Couldn’t remember.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now he was bored again. He’d give it thirty more seconds before jumping back up and interrupting Sam’s undeserved spa treatment. If the guy wanted to get all wet, he could stand out in the rain at this point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He forgot what he was counting for when he got to seventeen. Counting wasn’t usually his thing, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He let an audible breath out in boredom and frustration. And now he didn’t even have that pen to mess with. And he was too lazy to get up and grab it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d surely die from boredom. Right there on the table in Bosco Labs. He’d never considered donating his body to science before, but he supposed it would be fitting to, if this would be his final resting place. He’d have to make a quick will.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Let’s see: his pointy objects collection could to Sam. Or poor orphans in need. His food could all go to Sam, no one else would probably eat stuff that’s been expired for the better part of ten years anyway. His favorite junk pile would have to go to Sam, he didn’t trust anyone else to keep it safe. And his gun and badge? Well, he’d probably request to be buried with those. He couldn’t bear to be apart from them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Was that it? Max had covered all of the important ones. Oh well. How tragic. Here he was, potentially taking his last breaths, and no one was even here to mourn him. Some friends he had. Why, if someone else were dying, he’d hold them tightly, never letting go, and whisper sweet nothings into their ears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeah, right! He’d probably laugh at them. Only weak people died. That’s why he was gonna live forever!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been thinking about?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh yeah! Where the heck is-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m back!” Sam announced as he descended the elevator. Max sat up. He could smell him before he stepped off the thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You smell like wet dog.” He grimaced. Sam just gave him a look. “What? I meant it as a compliment! The <em>good</em> kind of wet dog smell.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I hope he wasn’t too much trouble, Mama Bosco.” Sam ignored Max and turned his attention to the scientist as he stepped towards them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not any more than usual.” She shrugged. “Just surprised to see him, is all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You and me both.” Sam nodded, turning to Max and giving half a smile before turning back. “Hope you don’t mind us ducking and running, but that’s storm’s gonna hit soon and we’d best head back to the office.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re welcome to stay here.” She offered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope! We’ll risk dying of hypothermia or over-hydration in the rain.” Max announced, jumping off the table. “It would be more entertaining than sitting here!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Mama Bosco exchanged a look that Max ignored. Sam shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll, uh…talk to you later. I’m sure you’ve got more questions about Max.” Sam said, following Max towards the elevator back up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mama Bosco waved. “I’ve got plenty. Both about the timeline thing and just in general. But they can wait. Now that I’ve got some answers, I can get back to work.” She smiled up at them as they ascended. “It was real nice to see you boys together again!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max wasn’t listening, he was too busy running down the creepy hallway to the freedom of the outside. He ignored Sam’s waving to the scientist and the weird paintings she had hung up in the hallway. He just ran to the door and opened it wide.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The clouds had gathered and it was kind of dark. There was a heavy, moist air that made his fur puff out. It was unnaturally warm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It reminded Max of something, but what was-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re in quite a hurry, little buddy.” Sam said, stepping behind him. “Yeesh. We’re really in for it, huh?” He pulled at his damp collar. “Maybe we <em>should</em> stay here. I’m worried that the office might collapse with the bad weather. Besides, we’ve got a hole in the hallway ceiling.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just turned and gave him a look. “Sam. I will <em>die</em> if I have to stay cooped up in a building with no access to any form of torture devices or things to throw.” He spoke dangerously, but Sam just chuckled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, fine. Fair enough.” He said, closing the door to Bosco Tech behind him before the two made their way back to the office.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something was buzzing through Max’s head, but he couldn’t say what. Mama Bosco had distracted him from it, mostly. But there was something he couldn’t quite place. Something about the weather. Or maybe it had to do with the lab? Or…Sam? Maybe all three?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grunted quietly in frustration. It was usually Sam’s job to figure out this kind of stuff. Why did he have to do it? It was right on the tip of his tongue, too. If only he could name it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had said something, but Max didn’t respond. He was close to figuring out what was bothering him. Real close. He assumed. He couldn’t honestly tell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he was sure he just needed one good push.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter four is written and I've started chapter five! Next chapter in a few days!</p>
<p>Thanks for your patience!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 7 - 10 Split</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max had been acting strange.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam realized that he’d been saying that since the guy showed up, but it was especially prominent now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ever since leaving Bosco Tech, the lagomorph had been strangely rushed and dismissive. It wasn’t abnormal for the little guy to be rude, but he usually wasn’t so…<em>rude</em> about it, if that made sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t even laugh or groan or threaten to shoot Sam when the dog had said that lightning always gave him a real shock. It was the worst kind of joke. Max hated them, but Sam always got a kick out of making the little guy groan in annoyance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But this time he didn’t do that. He didn’t even seem to hear it. Sam was usually the one prone to overthinking, but even when Max had been lost in thought, he always responded to a joke. The little guy just kept walking, rather quickly, Sam would add, back to the office. He didn’t even check to ensure Sam was keeping up with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was panting slightly as he practically raced to keep up with the lagomorph. He had already been damp from the shower and the humidity, but now he was sweating on top of that? Great. Why did this <em>always</em> seem to happen to him?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rain started before they got back to the office. Just a few stray sprinkles at first. The kind that you might play off and deny as being rain, just to convince yourself you haven’t made a poor decision by being out without any form of protection. But Sam couldn’t’ hold that notion when he noticed the wet spots appearing more frequently on the sidewalk around him. He knew it was going to get bad. Soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max was either too distracted to notice when drops landed on his oversized head or he ignored them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, Sam wasn’t about to get soaked and risk getting sick because Max wasn’t paying attention. He picked up the pace, though it felt like his throat was burning. He began half-running. They weren’t too far from the office. Maybe they could make it before getting completely soaked. He’d rather avoid it if he could. The suit was dry clean only and they had a tendency to shrink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he passed Max, he intentionally bumped him to knock the rabbit-y thing out of his daze for long enough to get back to the office. Sam didn’t say anything, just a hit and run. He didn’t even look back to see if it had actually worked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to keep all of his concerns and thoughts out of his head for a few minutes. He just focused on getting out of the rain and back home. He didn’t think about how everything was messed up and backwards and how everything felt wrong and how worried he was. Nope. Not at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rain started coming down harder and heavier as he looked up and saw the office at the end of the street. He held an arm above his already soaked head to try to stop a few drops. Obviously it didn’t do much good. Small puddles of rain water splashed as he ran through them to get home. There was a distant rumble of thunder as he swung open the door to the entranceway of the building. He only stopped to see if Max was still with him as he stepped under the cover.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sure enough, the lagomorph had picked up his own pace. He was only a few feet behind Sam, who held open the door for him so he could come barreling in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam closed the door behind him as Max ran inside. The dog took a moment to catch his breath. He shook his head rapidly and violently to try and dry himself. He hated the feeling of water in his ears. Water droplets sprayed everywhere, including on Max. The hat held firm, though. Like always.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jeez, Sam, watch it!” Max held an arm over his face to block the stray droplets the dog shook off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam stopped shaking at that. “Whoops! Sorry, little buddy.” He apologized.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They climbed back up to the office in silence after that brief exchange, both of them still dripping water on every step. The stairwell felt gray and sad. Not to mention still terribly broken and dangerous. Made Sam all the more eager to get back somewhere he could kick his feet up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dog opened the office door and flicked the light switch on. The bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered for a second before fully powering up, basking the room in an artificial yellow glow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had stepped by him and began walking around the familiar space, presumably trying to occupy his bored mind with something familiar. They’d have to find some way to entertain themselves while waiting for this storm to pass. Though, by the looks of the clouds outside the window, it was going to get worse before it got better. Great.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speaking of the window, Sam walked over to the one by his desk and, with more effort than he’d care to admit, closed the thing. They didn’t need more water coming in. There was enough pooling on the hardwood floor just from what was dripping off of their bodies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Closing the window also made him think of the hole in the ceiling on the third floor. He’d have to get something under it to catch the leak and at least <em>try</em> to contain it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max, do you have a bucket?” He asked while beginning a half-hearted search near his desk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do I have a bucket?” Max ‘tsked’ and dug underneath the couch they had slept on together just that morning. Sam couldn’t help but think of it, even though they’d sworn to never speak of it again. “What do you take me for, Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was about to give up and continue the search on his own, but Max surprised him by handing him the metal container.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here you go. Don’t spend it all in one place.” Max warned as he passed it off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head and grabbed the bucket. This was probably the least surprising thing Max had done today. “Thanks, little buddy.”</p><hr/>
<p>Max just waved Sam off as the doof stepped out to do…whatever it is people normally do with buckets. Something about a hole?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A hole in a bucket…? Wasn’t that some kind of riddle? Max hated riddles. They made his brain hurt because he hated concentrating on them. The solutions were usually lame, too. He stuck his tongue out in disgust.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He found himself watching the rain pour down through the closed window. It pattered rhythmically, his eyes scanned the drips as they trailed down the glass in uneven streaks. Rain was kinda cool, he supposed. Certainly not his favorite, but Mother Nature could really pull off some incredible feats.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Reminded him of the last time it stormed this hard. It’d been…he rubbed his hand under his chin. When <em>had</em> it stormed last? He swore he could remember, but it just wasn’t coming to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh well. He supposed that there was nothing to be done about it. He didn’t really care that much, anyway. He turned away from the window and hopped on his wet feet in place. Small drops of water dripped onto the wooden floor below, creating tiny puddles wherever he walked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The more he thought about it, the more he realized that rain kinda sucked. He didn’t like the cold, wet feeling it left him with when he was out in it too long. And there was too much of a stereotype with the weather and sour, rotten moods. It was also boring. Like most things. He’d have to think of something to entertain himself. Something besides brain-rotting television. That could come later. He wanted to move right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was sure there was no shortage of fun stuff in the closet. Or he could throw darts at the dartboard. Or at Sam. Or Sam could shoot at him from his desk while Max ran around to try and dodge it. Last time they’d done that, one of Sam’s bullets accidentally caught Flint in the leg through the wall. That, of course, led to a totally new kind of awesome in that Max got to watch Flint pull the bullet out. Fun times.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hummed. Shooting was, unfortunately, off the table. For now. They technically weren’t supposed to make any more holes in the walls. He could just run around in circles, but he’d already basically done that today and it was already losing its appeal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, Sam opened the office door and stepped back in, holding a towel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, did you trade away my bucket in a long and tedious series of side quests where you have to trade stuff with multiple NPCs until you finally get the item you were after the whole time, thus creating a bunch of unnecessary padding and backtracking when they should’ve just given the thing to you in the first place?” Max asked in one breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam blinked. Then blinked again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I just got this while I was upstairs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, okay.” And Max forgot about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam threw the towel at the lagomorph before he could get too sidetracked. “Here, dry yourself off. Last thing I need is you tracking water through the place…<em>again</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The towel landed on Max’s face and he scratched at it to free himself from its cotton clutches. “I dry myself for no man!” He cried before he felt Sam rubbing the towel all over him. “Ah! Friction! Friction!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t a moment later the dog stopped and pulled the towel away, like a magician revealing something after a magic trick. Max’s fur stood on end and he glared at the dog.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There.” Sam nodded before dabbing the fabric behind his ears. Max was <em>this</em> close to maiming the smart-aleck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now what? They just stood there uncomfortably, the sound of rain on the windows meeting their ears. Sam was definitely thinking about something dumb and boring. Max was too busy trying to think of what to do. He didn’t really notice when Sam moved and threw the towel on the back of the couch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max felt like knocking something over. Or a lot of things over. Or hitting something. But, like, more than usual. Hmm…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it!” Max exclaimed, louder than he needed to. It made Sam jump slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Holy pantsless ants, Max!” Sam yelped in surprise. “What is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max turned to him, seemingly just remembering the canine was there. He grinned. “I know what we can do to avoid sitting here, bored!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam calmed down and readjusted his tie, pretending he didn’t just get freaked out over nothing. “Oh. Well, that’s great, little buddy. What did you have in mind?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Apapapapa!” Max shushed him by waving a hand in the general direction of his face. “I need my bowling ball…and my boxing gloves. You seen them around?” He began frantically looking for the items. He ran over to the punching bag by the door, diligently scrutinizing the thing. The gloves weren’t there. They must’ve been used in a case Max didn’t really remember.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Sam was trying to help look, he clearly wasn’t putting much effort in. He just moved and sat in his big chair at his desk like always, leaning the old thing back precariously as his feet rested on the little free space the old desk still had. Max still didn’t really get how it was comfortable to sit like that, but it was the least of his concerns at the moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max scrambled under and behind the couch for his missing stuff, swatting away cobwebs, loose chips, and dust bunnies as he did so. So much for staying clean after his shower. He crawled on the floor to his own little desk after the couch proved unfruitful.  He searched inside the desk, under it, behind it, and above it (just in case). Nothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Saaaam!” Max whined, stomping his feet and glaring at the dog. “Are you gonna help me or do you need some ‘motivation?’” He was <em>this</em> close to pulling his gun out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just chuckled. “I don’t think any of that stuff’s here, Max.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “I haven’t seen ‘em in ages.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wow. I never would’ve expected you of all people would give up so easily, Sam.” Max scoffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just shrugged. “I haven’t given up because I haven’t even started.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max almost forgot to be annoyed long enough to laugh. Almost. But instead he gave a slight scowl, which Sam ignored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Guess he’d have to find his stuff on his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stepped away from Sam and the desks. Clearly the stuff wasn’t there. He eyed the room suspiciously. Not at the couch. Not at the desks. Not in the pile of stuff shoved in the corner…probably. That only left one place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The closet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max wasted no time running up to the large door and opening it wide. It was packed to the brim with various items they’d collected from their cases. It was nostalgic and homey.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He dove in, sure that he would find what he was looking for in the pile. He began throwing things out that weren’t either glove or ball shaped with crashes and clatters. He wasn’t paying attention to anything that wasn’t large, heavy, and could kill a lesser being if dropped on their head. Which basically meant he ended up paying attention to pretty much everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took all of his concentration not to get distracted by the cool weapons and knick-knacks he found. He had to throw the objects that weren’t what he was looking for quickly before he got too engrossed in them. It was hard!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Too bad Max didn’t check the shelf above him in the closet, first. He would be pleased to find that his bowling ball was balanced precariously on the edge of said shelf.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, he would find this out a moment later, when he discarded a pair of nun chucks a bit too roughly, throwing them high above him and hitting the shelf. The thing shook, but he wasn’t paying attention to it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The heavy bowling ball teetered on the edge for just a moment,</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before dropping directly onto his head.</p><hr/>
<p>Sam had kind of grown deaf to the noises of Max throwing a bunch of their stuff around the office. It was all so natural that he hardly even noticed as a few sharp objects almost flew right at him at alarming speeds. Frankly, he was kind of relieved to have Max doing something so normal. It felt like things were almost right in the world. It was calming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He listened, instead, to the sound of the rain pattering against the window. It was extremely relaxing. Almost made him want a nap. If he hadn’t gotten enough sleep already today, and Max wasn’t here to do something horrible to him while he rested, he probably would’ve indulged in some shut-eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He figured nothing could ruin a nice quiet afternoon like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That is, until he heard a sickening thump, followed by something large rolling on the floor. The noises of Max throwing stuff abruptly stopped after that happened, and the odd rolling was just strange enough to grab the dog’s attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He put his chair back down on the floor, his feet going down with it, as he looked out over his desk at what Max had gotten into now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, he found the bowling ball. It was out among the junk Max had been throwing around the office. He just caught the tail end of it rolling into a tiny, striped surfboard before stopping.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s eyes moved to the closet, where he could see Max’s legs sticking out, like an old movie (which he couldn’t name for legal reasons) featuring witches and slippers. The little guy wasn’t moving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That probably wasn’t a good sign.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam got up and walked over to where the lagomorph lay. Max’s face was buried in between a few random, broken knick-knacks Sam couldn’t recall ever getting and an old trench coat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max?” He asked. “I think you found your ball.” He chuckled slightly and kicked the lagomorph’s foot to get a reaction. Nothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max?” He asked again. It took Sam a moment to piece together what had happened. Well, he didn’t really connect the dots fully, but he did gather that Max’s unresponsiveness was bad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You alright, little buddy?” He kneeled down and prodded the rabbit-y thing a few times to get him to stir. It was only after the third or fourth time that Sam started getting really worried. Definitely bad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He reached down and gently lifted Max up so he wasn’t buried half in the closet anymore. He turned the little guy over. His head fell limply to the side and his eyes were shut. Very bad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tried to keep from panicking. He slowly lifted the lagomorph up and swiftly carried him across the room to the couch. He grabbed the towel he had draped over the back of the thing and folded it up and turned it into a makeshift, damp pillow to prop his partner’s head up. He laid Max down gently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was strangely quiet and focused during this. It felt like his body was moving on autopilot. Maybe his brain was, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He leaned his head down by the little guy’s chest, intensely silent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a heartbeat. And he could see the rise and fall of Max’s chest as he breathed, too. So he wasn’t dead. That was good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That made Sam relax a bit more. He sat back up from where he was kneeling on the ground by the couch. It wasn’t a moment after he did this that he heard the lagomorph groan. He couldn’t help but blink in surprise. That was quick. Though, he supposed Max was as unnatural as they come, and he always bounced back quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max slowly moved his hand to where the back of his head lay gingerly on the towel supporting him, wincing and groaning in pain as he did so. He blinked open his eyes, but squinted them shut again when he did so with a groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max?” Sam asked quietly. “You okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” His voice dripped with concern. Yeah, that was kind of a dumb question. Of course the guy was hurt. Look at him. He just presumably took a bowling ball to the back of the head. That would kill most anyone else. He counted himself lucky that it happened to Max instead of someone normal. Guy had a head harder than steel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m just peachy, Sam.” Max grumbled roughly. He didn’t move to sit up yet. It looked like he was thinking about something. He just laid there for another moment, rubbing the back of his head and squinting up at the ceiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam gave half a chuckle, mostly to calm himself down. “You gave me a scare, pal. I just about figured I’d have to go to a different timeline and find another new Max.” He gave a little laugh. He had meant it as a joke to further lighten the tension in his gut, but he didn’t really find it very funny.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t respond to the joke, though he did blink open his eyes more fully and turn his gaze to Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think I’m slightly concussed.” He stated simply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should hope so.” Sam nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And if that bright light stays on, I’m gonna throw up.” Max also said this as a simple statement, but Sam knew he wasn’t kidding. “And not in the fun way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That got Sam moving. He quickly stood up, moved to the light switch and flicked it off. The room wasn’t engulfed in complete darkness, there was still some light streaming in from the window, but seeing that it was storming, it wasn’t very bright.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That help any?” Sam asked, approaching the couch again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s perfect.” Max squinted up at him but still didn’t move. “Now I’m all better.” He said, sarcastically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just rolled his eyes. “Alright, knucklehead, sorry I asked.” He didn’t move from where he stood, though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really? Head jokes? Now?” Max let out a breath in disapproval. Sam didn’t respond, though it did make him smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It almost felt like another one of those awkward spells, but something was different this time. Max was staring off into space, like he did quite often these days, but something seemed off. He looked focused on something. Really focused. As if something had his complete attention. Sam wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe the guy was hallucinating and saw crazy colors and shapes on the ceiling. Maybe he was just held up on how hard he hit his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Sam was thinking of maybes again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dog let out a silent sigh and moved. He sat on the one cushion of the couch Max wasn’t occupying, right by the little guy’s head. He wasn’t about to stand there for no reason, if they weren’t gonna say anything. He was still concerned about him. Not that he’d admit that out loud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t really react to the movement. He was still stuck in his head about who knows what. He was off in his own little world at the moment. Sam couldn’t really blame the guy for it…this time. He wouldn’t push any conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t fully explain why he had wanted to sit here on the couch with Max instead of at his own desk. He didn’t really think about it. He just…did it. It made questions run through his head, and the more that he focused on them, the more uncomfortable it made him. It made him feel weird for some reason. But he couldn’t just stand <em>now</em>, right? He’d trapped himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to ignore those questions and instead listened to the patter of the rain on the window again. He was definitely overthinking again. There were more low rumbles of thunder, though Sam didn’t see the distinct flash of lightning from where he sat. No doubt those would come, too. The storm had only just started, after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…What was that you said?” Max half mumbled, interrupting the strange silence that had grown between them. Sam hadn’t even fully realized the little guy had said anything at first, considering he still hadn’t moved or looked at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I, uh…didn’t say anything, little buddy.” The dog responded in a hushed whisper. It made him even more concerned knowing that Max was potentially hearing things that weren’t there. Would they have to go back to the hospital? In this weather? Sam could think of an infinite number of things he’d rather do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, no. Not now.” Max threw an arm in the air and waved it around. “Before. You said…y’know, about the hurting?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“About the what?” Sam paused, replaying everything he’d said in his head. “I…asked if you were hurt. Is that what you meant?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes!” Max responded a bit too loudly. He winced from the burst of excitement and quieted down. His voice was suddenly like a timid little whisper. “Ask it again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” Sam asked in bafflement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max sighed in annoyance. “Just do it, Sam.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine. Are you hurt?” Sam hurriedly asked, a tinge of irritation in his voice. Maybe this was some set up for a joke. That’s what a question like that usually turned into. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure why Max had been so caught up on it. It was a dumb question. It was obvious he was hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, no, no.” Max groaned, rubbing his eyes. “The way you said it before. Say it like that!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” Sam scrunched up his face. “Max, I think you’re confused. When you hit your head, you must’ve-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That made Sam freeze. He looked down and Max was staring right at him. Right in his eyes. The little guy looked so…desperate and sad. How could he possibly refuse? He couldn’t even remember the last time Max had used the word ‘please.’ It was obvious he really wanted Sam to do this for him, but Sam couldn’t figure out why. Either way, his hands were tied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine. Okay.” He sighed in defeat. He cleared his throat, trying to push past the discomfort. “Uh…” He psyched himself up and put on his best acting chops, trying to recreate the worry in his voice that he’d had before. “You’re not hurt, are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t respond to the question right away. He had stopped looking at Sam and instead refocused on the ceiling, concentrating. He reached an arm up and blindly pulled Sam’s sleeve slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Now say…now say that you couldn’t live with yourself if you hurt me.” He almost whispered it, as if he wasn’t really sure what he was saying. “Say it like you really mean it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is this, an acting lesson?” Sam scoffed and removed his sleeve from Max’s grip. “What are you going on about, Max? I didn’t hurt you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know!” Max shouted and then clutched at his head again. “Guh…” It took him a moment to recover. “I know. Just…please? Please, will you do this for me?” Max looked up at him again with those same pleading and desperate eyes. The gaze made Sam squeamish and flustered. He felt small under the intense gaze. It didn’t do any favors for his discomfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam wanted to argue that the lagomorph couldn’t just add please to everything and expect it to work all of the time, but he didn’t. The little guy just looked so…pitiful. Sam couldn’t bring himself to deny the request. It was weird but not…<em>that</em> bad. Probably. He wasn’t cruel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, fine.” Sam turned his head away, covering his eyes with one hand and waving the other in front of Max. “Just…stop looking at me like that, will ya’?” He pinched a finger and thumb between his eyes.  “What was the line, again?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just say you couldn’t live with yourself if you hurt me. But you have to <em>really</em> mean it.” Max explained, pulling his eyes away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay…” He trailed off for a moment. If Sam hadn’t been so concerned, he would’ve chalked this up to another one of Max’s pranks or practical jokes. But this situation just didn’t add up to being something as simple as a laugh. Max’s pranks never got so complicated. It was usually simple, one-step things. That was usually the only kind of thing he had the attention span for. He took a deep breath and still avoided looking in Max’s direction. “I, uh…I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Psssh. You worry too much, Sam.” Max waved it off without missing a beat. “You know I’m likely indestructible. Nothing phases me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a pause after that. What was Max talking about? Had he finally lost it? Finally taken a dive off the deep end? Snapped like a twig or a femur? Guy was talking loopy. More than usual…and more than usual for the past few days, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he most certainly was <em>not</em> indestructible. Sam knew that all too well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, the dog wasn’t sure how to respond. Was there something he was supposed to say? Was Max expecting him to just go along with this sudden script? Like an improv lesson at some pretentious, private acting college? How was he supposed to follow along when it felt like Max was making it up? And what even <em>was </em>it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh…?” Was all he managed to get out. Smooth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max seemed to come slightly to his senses at that. He looked to Sam, then off to the side again. “Uh, then you said…” He rubbed his head, though whether it was because it hurt or because he was trying to think, Sam couldn’t tell. This whole situation had already thrown him off enough, and he couldn’t focus on small stuff like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmm…you said, ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. Anyone that can survive multiple trips in our washing machine can survive a little old city-destroying monster.’” He tried to mimic the way Sam spoke as he explained. Sam still wasn’t really grasping it…and that impression needed some work. “Then, give one of those little laughs you do when you tell one of those jokes that isn’t really funny, but you feel like you have to laugh anyway because no one else will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey! I don’t-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Just do it, Sam</em>.” Max slammed his had roughly down on the cushion of the couch at his side. Sam was startled by the aggressiveness of the action and how focused Max was on this. It was very disconcerting to say the least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam grumbled a little before he repeated what Max had said. “Er…Yeah, I guess…Anyone that survives, uh, trips in the washing machine can handle a city-destroying monster.” He knew he forgot some of the words. It was unrealistic to expect him to remember them that quickly. He just hoped that Max wouldn’t be picky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Speaking of, <em>man</em>, will you look at how <em>amazing</em> your powers are?” Max whistled. “We should’ve invested in something like this a long time ago.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Invest in what? Sam had just about enough of this. He realized that this was probably about that other Sam, but he didn’t want to keep up this charade. That <em>wasn’t him</em>. Max shouldn’t have been thinking about this. That other Sam was gone, and Max was talking crazy because he hit his head, otherwise he would have brought it up sooner. It almost made current Sam a little jealous, that Max was so focused on the guy. He ignored his own hypocrisy in that he hadn’t stopped thinking about his old Max for this argument. This wasn’t about him. Well, it was, but it was a <em>different</em> him, and…Ugh. This was complicated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max, I’d really prefer to know what you’re talking about before I-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just give me a minute!” Max waved a hand in Sam’s face to quiet him again. The dog was getting pretty sick of that, too. “Long time ago…Long time ago…” Max tapped his finger under his chin. “Oh! Then…Then there was this long pause. I wasn’t really paying attention because I was watching all of the carnage.” <em>What carnage</em>? Sam thought. “But then you sighed, which distracted me, and you said you couldn’t do this anymore. And the way you said that was like you were being crushed under a ton of bricks.” The lagomorph nodded to himself, confirming it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s brows furrowed at that. He turned back to face Max, laying down at his side. “A ton of bricks?!” He asked louder than he intended. “<em>Max</em>. I’m not going to-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, I <em>know</em> it’s a lot.” Max suddenly sat up. He winced as he turned towards the dog. “But this is the <em>only way I can remember you</em>.” He had that look in his eyes again and he clasped his hands together. “<em>Please, Sam</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s eyes widened at that. Not the please, this time. The “this is the only way I can remember you” thing. He shuffled uncomfortably under Max’s gaze. It kind of hurt seeing the little guy so desperate for answers to lapses in his memory like this. It made him feel bad, but this was just <em>too weird</em>. He wasn’t going to do this. He couldn’t. “Why do you need me to say this stuff? You’re telling me what to say anyway and responding. You already know it all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I don’t.” Max quickly shot down the argument. “It’s like…I don’t remember it, but when you say it-just like you did before-it’s like a light turns on in my head and I know what to say. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I really <em>really</em> want to remember this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had been acting so out of character that Sam hardly recognized him. He didn’t even crack a joke or a setup in that explanation. The dog knew he’d kind of asked for a moment like this before, for Max to be serious about some of this stuff, but now that it was happening it was just…too unbearably foreign for him to respond or process it properly. They had been best friends for as long as he could remember. Why had a situation like this never come up before? Aside from the whole “dying” thing. Just…them being serious with each other about this stuff in general. Why hadn’t they talked like this before? It probably would’ve saved Sam some nausea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turned his head away again and gave a deep sigh. “…Max, I…I can’t do this anymore.” He managed to get out, embarrassed. Confusion still circling in his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Max sat up fully and looked out towards the window. “You’re kicking some serious city butt out there! I might even be jealous! Can you believe that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam turned just enough to catch a glimpse of what Max was doing, but he otherwise couldn’t bring himself to fully face the lagomorph. He waited for a moment in tense silence. Then another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Then what?” He found himself quietly asking, still in disbelief that he was actually going along with this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t’ face him, either. He kept staring at the rain on the windows. “You used this tone…” He trailed off for a moment, unmoving. “You…sounded so guilty. You must’ve felt so bad…” He shook his head. “You said you didn’t <em>want</em> to kick the city’s butt. Can you believe that?” At that, he turned back to Sam. “You said it was <em>awful</em>. You asked how many people you hurt. As if you actually <em>cared</em> about that stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam couldn’t tell if Max was actually disgusted with this apparent behavior of his, or if it was something else that he couldn’t quite figure out. It didn’t ease any of the tension he felt either way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Say that.” Max encouraged. “Please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam scratched at his cheek, still avoiding facing the rabbit-y thing head on. He quickly recounted what he was supposed to say. He’d have to do some guesswork. Max wasn’t the best at explaining this kind of stuff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Er…I don’t…want to kick the city’s butt, Max.” He closed his eyes for a moment as he took a breath to get more into it so he wouldn’t have to say it all twice. “This is awful. How many people am I hurting?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pfffft.” Max raised an arm up and threw it down as he snickered. “Who cares about the people? Once we get you a little more under control, you’re gonna be the coolest thing since <em>me</em>.” Max laughed to himself slightly at that before pausing. He was seemingly waiting for something, or figuring something out in his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then…” Max gulped. “Then you gave me that lecturing tone, like when you tell me ‘no’ to something really cool I wanna do. And…you said it was <em>bad</em>. And you said that we fought crimes to help people…” He trailed off again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was something in his tone that shook Sam to his core. Something was definitely wrong, he could tell. He just needed a little more information.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…No, Max. This is bad. We fight crimes to help people…not hurt them.” He added that last part himself, but it was fitting. It felt like the right thing to say in the moment. Of course, he wasn’t even really sure what “right” was anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part of him wanted to stop doing this. Actually, scratch that: <em>all</em> of Sam wanted to stop doing this. This felt wrong. It felt like something he shouldn’t have been participating in. Like, some kind of invasion of privacy. Which only made him more confused and upset, because this was a conversation that <em>he</em> had had with Max. A different him. One that didn’t exist anymore. It made his brain hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, we certainly hurt the criminals…” Sam could feel the grin Max had on his face as the lagomorph interrupted his inner conflict. The rabbit-y thing shook his head and lost that smile. “I don’t get it, Sam. Why would you <em>not</em> want awesome, God-like powers and the coolest looking body I’ve ever seen?” Max gingerly stepped off the couch and took a few steps towards the window, the air silent between them as they did. His footsteps seemed to echo off of the walls. “And we’re working on fixing you, y’know? We just need a little more time. So…why don’t we just enjoy this view for a while, since we’re here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam figured that might’ve been the end of the conversation. Maybe that’s all Max would remember. Or that was all of the important stuff. It was enough for Sam to get a good enough grip on things. Some sort of conversation with this other Sam in his giant, monster brain. Sam had similar conversations with Max’s superego. Well, kind of. That guy was kind of a jerk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t the end of the conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Then, you said…” He didn’t turn back to face Sam. If the situation weren’t so serious, Sam might’ve poked fun at him for being overdramatic. “You said it wasn’t about the powers. You said that people were getting hurt and you didn’t have any control. You said you could destroy the world…And you sounded so <em>serious</em>. I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam gulped. This whole situation was so freakishly similar to his own troubles with Monster Max that it made his skin crawl. Images of his little buddy stomping through the city and destroying buildings rushed through his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took another breath. “Max,” he started, the serious tone coming surprisingly naturally, “this isn’t about the powers. People are getting hurt. I, uh, can’t control my body like this. I could destroy the world!” Maybe he should take up acting. He didn’t mean to brag, especially not now, but he made pretty convincing angsty plights if he did say so himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“World-shmorld!” Max replied instantly with a scoff. “You’re overreacting again, ya big lug. It’s <em>fine</em>, Sam.” He still didn’t turn and face him. He was enamored with the rain on the window outside. “You’ll be back to normal in no time and we can wrap up this case.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam still wasn’t sure how to react. He waited for a moment for Max to tell him what to do. He kept trying to ignore…everything. Everything other than what Max was telling him, that is. And even then, he couldn’t bring himself to think too hard about the implications of it. This conversation wasn’t his business. Even if he kept reminding himself that it <em>was</em> his business, it still felt wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then, you said we didn’t <em>have</em> time.” Max crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, pitifully. “You said that the dark energy infecting your brain would corrupt you…and you wouldn’t exist anymore.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite Sam already knowing the ending of this weird story, it still pulled at his heartstrings. He didn’t want to have Max live through this again. Heck, <em>he</em> didn’t want to live through it, and this was just some weird recreation in their office. He wanted to refuse, to save them the heartache, but something in him couldn’t. Something in him had to see this through, despite how strange and difficult it was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay…” He sighed. “M-Max…We don’t <em>have</em> time. The dark energy infecting my brain will corrupt me. I’m not going to exist anymore…?” He trailed off after that. That <em>was</em> what Max had said, right? It was hard to remember all of the details with how overwhelmed he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” Max turned his head to look back at him. “Mama Bosco said we still had an hour left.” He pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam could probably guess what he was supposed to say, but he didn’t say it out loud, just in case he was wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Just…just say that she was wrong. Loud.” Max mumbled, shifting his gaze to the floor between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Well, she was wrong!” Sam found himself standing at that. The last thing he wanted to do was yell at Max right now, but he had to. If this is what that other him had done then he had to follow well enough to keep the conversation moving. He had to follow it well enough so Max would remember what came next. The sooner this was over and done with, the sooner this horrible twisting in his gut would go away. He hoped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet after he said that, except for the rain against the window outside. Another rumble of thunder cut through the consistent noise. The silence almost made Sam feel like he’d said the wrong thing. Like maybe he’d misheard or interpreted it wrong, somehow, despite the fact that wouldn’t have made any sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was expecting Max to tell him what to say next, or to give a reaction, but the little guy didn’t move for a long time after that. He had this…look in his eye. Some sort of emotion or recollection that Sam couldn’t quite pick up. Something he’d never seen in the little guy before. The dog was just about to go over and make sure Max was still okay, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t really sure about any of his actions as of late.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max.” He found himself calling to the lagomorph instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That seemed to snap Max out of it. Kind of. The rabbit-y thing let out a breath. Sam wasn’t sure how it was possible for the little guy’s shoulders to slump even more, but they did. “...You said the only way was to destroy you.” He mumbled, almost inaudible against the wind and rain rattling the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The way he said it broke Sam’s heart. Even though he knew what happened in the end. He had no idea Max had to say goodbye like this. It was terrible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it only made him remember that the little guy himself hadn’t really known they had to say goodbye like this. He had blocked it from his memory. Was it intentional? Because it made him sad? Usually Max forgets things he finds unimportant or boring, but he was usually good about stuff that actually mattered. And this seemed pretty freakin’ important. So, being here to see him go through it? It was impossible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He found he couldn’t look directly at Max. His gaze dropped to the cracks in the wooden floorboards, eyes scanning the various objects Max had previously thrown around the room between them. How he wished to be anywhere but here right now. How he wished for any other situation other than this one. For a split second, he almost considered it better if Max had never shown up in the time travelling elevator. That only served to riddle him further with guilt and shame. He was going to give up on his partner because of one difficult conversation?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t help it. Because this <em>didn’t feel right</em>. Because he was peeking in on a stranger’s conversations and a stranger’s turmoil and a stranger’s loss. Because this <em>wasn’t Max</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max. The only way…is to destroy me.” The words hung in the air for a moment. Their very presence becoming lead weighs tied to his ankles, preventing him from moving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What…?” Max’s voice broke through the tension. Then, he did something Sam hadn’t been expecting. He snickered. Then he broke out into full on laughter. He clutched his sides, he was laughing so hard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam could tell it was forced. This wasn’t Max’s normal sense of humor. Not by a long shot. His laughter was a deflection. It was obvious. This situation wasn’t the least bit funny and both of them knew that. All he could do was wait for his partner to calm down long enough to give a proper response. It took longer than he felt comfortable with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He just laughed and laughed while Sam focused hard on the wooden floor between them. Tiny puddles of water sporadically caught his eye on the floor, a sign of where Max had walked before properly drying off from the rain. Random assortments of stuff littered the entirety of the floor, how it all managed to fit into the closet Sam wasn’t sure. The bowling ball taunting him from where it rested in front of the desks. Sam suddenly wished they had never set sight on the damned thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Eheh…heh…” Max let out a breath in recovery. “…What?” He asked again, turning to face Sam fully, pausing for a moment. Sam didn’t lift his gaze from the floor. “Oh, man, Sam. Talk about dramatics!” Max waved it off and took a step towards him. Sam didn’t move.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, come <em>on.</em> <em>Destroy you? </em>Pffft.” The lagomorph blew a raspberry. “Yeah, right. We’ll figure something else out. How long do we have?”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Sam wanted to ask what he should respond with, but his voice caught in his throat. He found himself completely unable to move. It was like he was turned to stone. He knew if he looked up and saw Max so hopeful for something he knew wouldn’t happen, it would make him break down, which was weird because he was definitely more confused than he was sad or hurt. Not that he <em>wasn’t</em> upset about this whole situation, but he felt it strange that this of all things was what had him so close to losing it. And he wasn’t about to do that in front of Max. Not now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Helloooo?” Max continued coming towards him. “Sam. Come in, Sam!” He mimicked speaking into a walkie-talkie. “What’s the real plan here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam remained silent and unmoving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam?” Max dropped the invisible communications device. He was right in front of Sam now, his head trauma seemingly forgotten at the moment, though Sam wasn’t sure how. He chuckled a little. “Come on, Sam. How’re we getting back to normal and wrapping up this case?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam still did not move.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam!” Max basically hollered and grabbed Sam’s face in his hands, forcing the dog to look at him. “<em>How’re we getting you back to normal and wrapping up this case?</em>” He shook Sam’s head in his hands with every syllable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam didn’t react.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam!” Max looked horribly desperate and angry. “<em>You’re the solutions guy</em>. What’s the other solution?! <em>How do I keep you from getting destroyed</em>?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam could only stare in defeat. Max wanted another answer so bad, but Sam didn’t know what to say. He knew there wasn’t one. He knew that Max ended up blowing this other Sam up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max seemed to snap out of it for a moment. He let Sam go and moved back a step, grabbing at his own head. “…U-um…” His voice was suddenly a lot smaller. He blinked a few times and averted his gaze. “Then you said, ‘I know. I know it’s hard. But Max, you have to do this.’”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam didn’t even question it. He didn’t hesitate or look away in embarrassment. He was too invested in this at this point. He didn’t want Max to go through this again, but knew that he would have to in order to remember it. He wanted to help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know. I know it’s hard. But Max, you have to do this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t have to do <em>anything</em>.” Max spat. If he were still near Sam, he probably would’ve shoved him away. The outburst was definitely enough to startle the dog. “I’m gonna find some other way to save you, or...or…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or what?” The dog asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or the world can<em> get</em> destroyed for all I care. I’ll just stay in here and watch it with you.” Max pouted and turned back to the window, his arms crossed harshly back over his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Max…” He didn’t really need to guess to know what to say. Maybe it was because this original conversation was with another Sam, but it felt obvious. “That’s not how it works.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, it <em>should</em> be how it works.” Max threw his arms up and turned back to him. “It’d be a lot easier.” He mumbled in defeat and kicked at the ground. “Besides, don’t you think it’d be a <em>little</em> cool to watch everything get torn apart?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam managed to give a half smile and chuckle at that. “Yeah, a little. But I think it’d be a lot cooler if there was still a world left.” He took a step towards the lagomorph with that. He had no idea if that’s what this other timeline version of himself said, but he knew that this felt a little better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The lagomorph’s gaze didn’t leave the ground. “…I have to blow you up?” He asked feebly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam paused at that. “I guess…?” He scratched the back of his head again. “I mean, it’s not that bad. You’ve been threatening to kill me most every day for the last, what, twenty years? More or less?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just scoffed. “You never know when I’m kidding, do you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve shot me before.” Sam deadpanned. He didn’t care if that’s what the other Sam said, he wasn’t about to let that stuff slide.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Accidentally</em> shot you.” Max corrected, then an aside. “The first few times.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing!” Max walked back over to him and looked up at him. He gave a sad smile. It was quiet for a moment after that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet it’s gonna be pretty cool. Wish I could see it.” Sam knelt down so they were equal in height. He reached his arms out and pulled the lagomorph in for a hug. Max reciprocated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll tell you all about it when I die and I see you in hell.” Max responded. It was probably one of the nicest things Sam had heard from the guy, despite the morbid implication.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam whispered in Max’s ear. “Did I say anything else?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max paused. “You said you wouldn’t want anyone else to blow you up.” He mumbled into the fabric of Sam’s jacket shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah. Well, I suppose that’s true.” Sam let out a humorless chuckle. He held Max a little tighter. “You know I wouldn’t want anyone else blowing me up, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, you big softie.” Max pushed him away for a moment. “You really mean it?” He sounded honored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just brought him back. “Course I do, little buddy. In this and every timeline.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You didn’t say the timeline part.” Max corrected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up, Max.” That made Max laugh a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…It’s not fair. That this happened.” Max quieted back down, seemingly remembering something serious again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know, little buddy.” Sam patted the lagomorph’s back. “But we’ve never had a fair fight.” Which was true enough, he supposed. They had everything they ever needed, they just didn’t have all of the luxuries that came with high paying, secure jobs. They also didn’t have jobs that didn’t risk one of them turning into a giant monster and having to get blown up on the daily. But that was just how they rolled, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just hummed at that at first. And it was quiet for another moment, except for the rain. But this was different from those uncomfortable silences from before. This one felt…complete. Sam felt like this was normal, despite the fact that everything they’d gone through today had been completely topsy-turvy and backwards. This moment? This moment was all that mattered right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…You do realize that you’re going to have to let me go so I can blow you up at some point…?” Max pointed out, interrupting the silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope.” Sam refused and only held the lagomorph tighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You didn’t say that, either.” Max dropped his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t care.” Sam lifted the rabbit-y thing up and squeezed him hard enough to hear the guy’s joints pop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah! Mercy! Mercy! I yield! I yield!” Max cried and tried to pry himself free. It took another moment before Sam let him go.</p>
<p><br/>
Max dropped back to the ground rather clumsily. Sam realized he should’ve been more careful, considering the guy’s recent head injury, but he recovered just fine. Like always.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A flash of lightning and loud burst of thunder struck outside, startling the two from their moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh. It’s really coming down, huh?” Sam scratched his head under his hat. “Maybe I should check that bucket upstairs and see if it’s catching anything. Or if it’s full.” He looked to the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that created a silent agreement. They’d had their moment. And now it was gone and wouldn’t be mentioned again. That’s what Sam interpreted from it, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just blinked at the window again before turning back to him, his head cocked to the side. “Say, do you know where my boxing gloves are? I thought of something fun we could do involving punching bowling balls at each other.” He grinned slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam just shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough head injuries for one day, you little rascal.” He chuckled and stretched his back with a pop. He looked back to the window and crossed his arms over his chest. “Jeez, it’s gonna rain all night at this rate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max also looked at the window and hummed in agreement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was silent again. For a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, little buddy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What were we just talking about?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think 4 might be my lucky number with chapter writing. I'm really proud of this one! ^^<br/>It does kinda feel like a finale at the end, but it isn't! There's still some more to come!</p>
<p>I think this fic will end up being 6 chapters, but I'm not holding myself to that limit yet in case stuff changes.</p>
<p>As of now, I'm a good chunk of the way through chapter five. It should (hopefully) be up within a week.<br/>And don't worry, Max will get more from his perspective in the next one! I realize this one was pretty heavily from Sam's perspective, but it felt wrong to switch in the middle of the big conversation.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pressure Change</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well <em>that</em> had been something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Just…something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t fully explain how the whole situation made him feel. But he’d try. It was like a sad…relieved…lonely kind of feeling. But it also felt complete. Like the end of a story or a chapter or something. Or like finally scratching an irritating itch that you couldn’t reach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t believe how serious he’d been through that whole conversation. He had been so focused. How embarrassing. He was thankful no one important had heard him talking like that. He looked back to Sam, who still had that shocked look on his face from Max pretending like he forgot the whole thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh, yeah. He should probably tell the big doof he was just joking about that, huh?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m kidding, Sam.” He explained. “Lighten up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That calmed the big guy down a bit. Good. Max hated that stupid look he got. Made his stomach feel funny.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he been thinking about?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right, the-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d better check that bucket.” Sam suddenly announced, stepping to the door. He spoke a bit too quickly, like he was in a hurry to leave. Weirdo. “I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just shrugged. He wasn’t about to stop him. Sam could do whatever he wanted with that old bucket, Max didn’t care.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet after Sam clicked the door closed. Well, quiet aside from the rain still violently beating on the windows and the thunder cracking periodically outside. That was still a thing. But it was quiet aside from that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max’s head still hurt, but he didn’t have that annoying ringing-voice-thing in his ears anymore, which was cool. The first few seconds after he’d gotten up were the worst. Though he probably shouldn’t have been walking around and moving like he was. Oh well. He wasn’t about to lay there and do nothing. <em>Boooriiing</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His mind wandered back to his conversation with Sam. The Sam inside the monster Sam, he meant. Mostly. He tried not to let the number of Sams confuse him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He really had said goodbye, huh? That had been the last time they spoke. It only made him sad again. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, but he couldn’t stop. Why was Sam causing so many problems for him right now? The dude was dead, so the problems should just go away. That kind of logic had always worked before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was frustrating. And sad. Why was he still so sad about it? He couldn’t remember all of the details between that conversation and when he'd begged Mama Bosco to build him that time travelling elevator, but surely he’d been completely normal, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed, knowing that wasn’t the truth. He wouldn’t have made a big deal about it if he didn’t care. He almost gagged, though. It was getting too sickly sweet for him, admitting he cared. Too complicated. He’d much rather just go beat somebody up rather than deal with this stuff. It made him feel funny. And not in the joke telling, good kind of funny, either. The <em>weird</em> kind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The annoying voices that had been running through his head the past few days had finally seemed to stop, though. He was thankful for that. Who knew all it took was one good blow to the head? It made him feel a whole lot better to have that taken care of. Now he could forget all about it and go back to normal. Though there was still the whole “Sam acting strange” problem. He still hadn’t figured out how to fix that yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe the big guy <em>also</em> needed a bowling ball to the head. Aside from the nauseating pain, it worked wonders for Max. He looked to the ball on the floor of the office. He supposed he could rig it so the thing dropped on Sam’s head when he came back into the office, but thought better of it. Sam had a soft head. He’d probably get more hurt than Max did, and Max didn’t really want to hurt the guy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That thought made him pause again. Was that a side effect of the bowling ball thing? Or maybe it was one of those…things he couldn’t remember that Mama Bosco had talked about. Max had never felt any sort of remorse about hurting Sam before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In fact, this whole day had been completely backwards. They had slept together on their couch? Max had gone out of his way to bring Sam something without the guy asking? He willingly listened to Mama Bosco droll on and on forever while waiting for Sam to shower? He pleaded and opened up about all of the details that he’d forgotten about involving his previous Sam dying? Something was definitely off. Was it a full moon? Was there some planet teenage girls pay way too much attention to in retrograde? Max didn’t even know what retrograde meant, but he blamed it on that anyway. It was easier than trying to actually find a solution.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam opened the door to the office and stepped back in. Max looked over to him, but the dog quickly averted his gaze. Great. Was he gonna be all weird about this, too? Max was this close to blowing up at the guy for it. But, at the same time, seeing him again filled the lagomorph with a strange sense of calm and familiarity. He was already forgetting about whatever it was he was just questioning before the dog stepped in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His improved mood didn’t do anything for the awkward silence that Max suddenly noticed growing between them, though. Those were starting to get old, too. Actually, they’d definitely already overstayed their welcome, and Max wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is there something I’m supposed to be saying right now?” He asked, cutting through the silence abruptly. “Cuz I have no idea what it is and this is getting annoying.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had that dumb surprised look on his face again. Max hated that look. Has he said that already? Well, it’s good to repeat things for emphasis: he hated that look. It made him feel bad for some reason, despite him doing nothing wrong…this time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam stuttered for a moment before actually starting to give a coherent response. “Uh, well…” Max furrowed his eyebrows at the dog. “I was just thinking that…” He started to trail off again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on, Sam! Spit it out!” If the big doof stuttered one more time, Max was gonna go hit him. “If I can talk to you about all of my junk, you can tell me whatever dumb stuff is in your head.” It was the closest Max could get to kindly telling his friend he was there to listen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe you should take it easy for a while.” Sam finished and dropped his gaze again. Another rumble of thunder echoed outside the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Max asked, completely lost.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, you just hit your head and relived a traumatic experience. Maybe you should lie down. Not…move around so much.” There was a brief pause, his next sentence coming out slightly quieter. “Y’know…for the next few days or until you're all patched up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, <em>that</em> was new. And it was disgusting. This day just kept getting weirder and weirder. Granted, he <em>was</em> kind of dizzy…and his head pounded…but it wasn’t much worse than usual. What was with Sam? He’d never cared that Max walked around with head trauma before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max laughed it off. “Sam, you’re such a worry wart. I’m fine, ya dork.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam didn’t seem relieved to hear that. “That’s what you always say, Max.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You hit your head pretty hard, and the way you were talking had me worried. I really think some rest would be good for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeah, okay, this was getting really weird. Uncomfortably weird. Since when had Sam been such a stick in the mud? Eh, better not answer that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, I don’t know if I’ve ever ‘rested’ in my life.” Max waved him off and began rummaging through some of the stuff he’d thrown about the room. “I mean, aside from sleeping.” He added. “I’m fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam still hadn’t moved from where he stood near the door, but Max wasn’t really focusing on him anymore. There was a shiny, crinkly package with a mysterious green mold on it that suddenly had all of his attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, Max?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max froze. That little sneak. He turned his head back to the dog too quickly. He winced as a fresh, throbbing pain engulfed his head. He tried to ignore it as he gave a half grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nice try, Sam, but, unlike you, I’m too tough for that crap to work on me.” He puffed out his chest, reveling in his manliness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam gave him that look again. That horrible puppy-dog look. That stupid pleading look Max hated. He tried to look away to avoid being suckered into it, but it was too late. Sam knew how to make him feel bad about this stuff. He groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Saaaam, that’s cheating!” He huffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, and you actually being polite and using please for what you wanted wasn’t?” Sam countered, causing Max to stiffen. Busted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s different.” He quickly tried deflecting. “I cheat at everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We aren’t that different, you know.” Sam sighed. “Max, please just take it easy for today.” He spoke before Max could get another argument in. “Just for now. I’ll turn on the TV and we’ll watch something dumb like normal until the storm passes and I’ll get us dinner and we can relax for a little bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max was going to argue more, but the idea of having Sam serving him and meeting his every need <em>was</em> kinda tempting. And on his list of things to do, mindless TV wasn’t at the bottom. Ugh, why was Sam so good at making him do things he otherwise wouldn’t? It was annoying. He normally couldn’t be controlled. He was wild. Untamed. Why, he could be the subject of one of those surprisingly graphic nature documentaries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What was he doing again?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh, yeah. Giving in. Because he supposed he owed Sam this one. Make no mistake, though. He was <em>not</em> happy about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He trudged and stomped his feet to the couch unnecessarily loudly and jumped on it, crossing his arms over his chest in another over exaggerated pout.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though the look of gratitude Sam gave him almost knocked him out of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks, little buddy.” The dumb dog smiled warmly at him. And it was even dumber because it almost made Max not want to be mad about it anymore. “Here. I’ll go gather our blankets and pillows from upstairs and we’ll make it like a proper movie night. Maybe if the storm dies down, I’ll go rent a video.” He nodded slightly while giving Max this weird look. The lagomorph wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to try so hard, but he also kind of relished the fact that Sam was willing to go to such lengths just to appease him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max sighed dramatically. “Fine, you big baby.” He shooed the dog away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam left the office in a hurry, leaving Max alone with his thoughts again. He focused on the heavy rain against the window. If there’d be a break in this storm, it probably wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Probably.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeah, Sam was acting weird again. More than usual. But also different. A different kind of weird. Max couldn’t help but ponder it. Did the lagomorph say something that caused it? Or maybe it was the whole “recreate the last conversation with that other Sam” thing that had him so loopy? Max supposed he couldn’t really blame the guy if that was the case. Though he was still glad they did it. He assumed it was beneficial…somehow. He still didn’t really know. Thinking about it still made him sad, but he was glad that dumb nagging voice was out of his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was strange, but, during those few minutes where Sam was helping him, Max felt like it was normal. Like it was just Sam and not some clammy, stuttering dog-guy pretending to be him. He knew that didn’t make much sense, but for that little bit of time, it really felt like <em>his</em> Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, afterwards, things kinda went back to how they had been lately. But for that moment? It was nice. Max had almost forgotten what that familiarity was like, despite the fact that the context of the conversation was anything but comforting. He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing Sam like that. Normal. Why hadn’t he just accepted that this was his Sam sooner? It was way easier and made him feel a lot better. Part of him knew it wasn’t that simple. There was some other mental block preventing him from thinking so.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brains were stupid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t really want to think about Sam anymore, but the stupid dog seemed to be the center of all of his thoughts. Max couldn’t even think about biting or maiming someone without images of Sam on the sidelines popping up, cheering him on. It was gross and Max hated it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he couldn’t stop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He almost didn’t notice when the man himself walked back in, bundle of soft cotton fabrics and fluffy pillows in his arms. How had he managed to carry all of that and safely make it back down the stairs? Max only contemplated that for a moment before realizing that he didn’t care about it in the slightest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I certainly hope these sheets are crafted from the finest silk, hand woven for my delicate, sensitive skin.” Max placed a hand on his chest, just for dramatic effect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Eh, you’re gonna have to settle for the same itchy blanket you’ve had since…when did we buy that, exactly?” Sam asked as he dropped the tangled load on the end cushion of the couch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, ask the guy with a short term memory and a recent head injury, I’m sure you’ll get your answer.” Max answered while rolling his eyes. He grabbed at the mess of blankets and tried to pull his own free aggressively.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fair point.” Sam agreed as he went to their tiny little TV and flipped the knob to power it on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The screen was static-y, and Max couldn’t really hear it from where he sat over the loud rain pounding on the windows. In fact, he couldn’t even make out any of the little figures on the tiny screen due to the thing being halfway across the room. And staring at the bright screen made him squint and made his head ache. It kinda made him sick. He had to blink his eyes a few times and eventually settle for not looking directly at the TV. This was already a bad idea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Sam seemed pretty proud of it. He readjusted the antenna for a slightly clearer picture and nodded to himself when he got it. Max really didn’t care what dumb little show he put on. He probably wasn’t going to watch it anyway, if it made him wanna puke every time he looked at it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had walked back over to the couch and helped Max untangle the blankets and get them separated. The lagomorph greedily grabbed his own square of fabric and wrapped it tightly around himself to claim it as so. Sam just rolled his eyes and put his own to the side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max grabbed a pillow and flopped down in his little blanket burrito he made of himself and landed softly with his head on it. He was laying on his side, facing the TV. He averted his gaze from the sickening screen to look at the ceiling while trying to ignore how bored he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What time was it? Probably afternoon, right? Late afternoon? He hummed. Why didn’t they have a clock in the office? Had he broken it at some point? Probably. Oh well, he didn’t care that much for the specifics. He just wanted the rain to stop so they could go out again tonight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t really paying attention, but next thing he knew, Sam was sitting next to his head, covered in his own blanket. Wasn’t he warm wearing both a suit and a blanket? Not to mention the fur and the humidity. He was probably leaking more water than the hole in the ceiling. Gross.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speaking of gross…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This pillow smells like sweat and shameful, guilt-ridden midnight snacks.” He commented, his words mumbled due to being snuggled in his own personal blanket fortress.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You must’ve grabbed mine by mistake. Here.” Sam reached over and tried to grab the corner of the pillow to swap them out. “Lift your head a bit and I’ll switch them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You told me to rest. I’m not moving a muscle.” Max was both too stubborn and too comfortable to even consider moving even an inch. “You wouldn’t want to risk me hurting myself by moving, would you?” He asked innocently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was expecting Sam to push him forcefully or something. Maybe pull the pillow out from under his head anyway. Something funny like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But instead his hand left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose you have a point.” Sam conceded. “Guess you’ll just have to settle for that.” He shrugged. “…And I haven’t had <em>that</em> many midnight snacks in bed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, I don’t even have to look at you to know that’s a lie.” And Max wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t about to turn his head for that. That would make him a hypocrite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something new was happening. This situation was a new kind of uncomfortable. Max noticed it right away, but he wasn’t sure if Sam did. He wasn’t going to ask. He tried ignoring it, but everything about...well, everything made him crinkle his nose. He tried putting the pieces together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sleeping on the couch together. Him buying lunch. Having that difficult conversation. Laying on the same couch, together…<em>again</em>?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was only one thing it could be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But what if he was wrong? What if he was reading too much into it, or making the wrong connections? What if he was thinking about this backwards or something?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No. No. He was sure of what this was. He just had trouble believing it, although he probably shouldn’t have. Honestly, he was surprised something like this hadn’t happened sooner. It was all obvious, in retrospect. It almost made his heart flutter to think about it. The fact was…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their couch was cursed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was the only solution.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it made so much sense when Max thought more about it. Where did he end up falling asleep that morning? On the couch. He brought lunch to Sam, who had been asleep where? On the couch. When did he hit his head? After crawling under the couch. When did he start remembering his last conversation with other Sam? On the couch. And where were they now? There was only one thing to be done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, when the rain stops, we need to take this couch outside and burn it.” Max interrupted whatever boring show Sam was probably watching to say that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do you say that?” Sam asked, not necessarily opposing the idea or surprised by the suggestion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve been running the numbers.” Was the only answer the dog would get.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Something tells me I’m not going to be able to stop you.” Sam commented quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope.” Max popped the ‘p.’ “Glad we’re in agreement. I’ll grab my lighter when I feel like moving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam didn’t reply to that. Things went quiet again. Or, as quiet as they could go with wacky music and rain in the background.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max had it all figured out. Once they destroyed the evil couch, things would go back to normal for sure. He’d be a hero and actually get the credit for it. It was a good feeling, being right about everything all the time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He yawned. His head still ached, and keeping his eyes open only made it worse. It Sam wasn’t going to let him have any fun, he was going to be so unbelievably boring that the big doof would <em>beg</em> him to start running around and causing mayhem again. Another fool-proof plan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he rested his eyes, his mind wandered back to why Sam was so insistent on a movie night. The lagomorph liked movies as much as the next guy, but there were far more entertaining options at their disposal right now. They didn’t even have a real movie to watch. And the way the dog went about asking it was also unusual. Oh well. Sam had always been a weirdo. If he wanted to keep his eyes glued to the mind-numbing escapades on public broadcasting, it was no skin off Max’s nose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, Max didn’t realize that Sam hadn’t been watching the TV at all.</p><hr/>
<p>Sitting like this was calming for Sam. Ensuring Max was resting and not straining himself made the dog feel a lot better about everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam knew that he hadn’t technically shut down Max’s request to torch the couch, but he wouldn’t let that happen. Fires could easily get out of control and someone could get hurt.</p>
<p><br/>
He blinked. Since when did he care about people getting hurt? He supposed the other him had started caring when he was literally destroying the city. Who knew becoming an Elder God-esque monster would make him so soft? He flicked his gaze to his side where Max was laying. The lagomorph’s eyes were closed, but Sam wasn’t sure that he was sleeping.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It only occurred to him in the last few minutes how mortal and fragile Max was, despite the tough exterior. Well, he already knew Max wasn’t immortal. He knew it all too well. He had already lived through the guy’s death once. He couldn’t even imagine going through it again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So he would be a bit more careful. No more unnecessary risks. But he didn’t want to broadcast it. Didn’t want Max to catch on. The lagomorph would kill him if he found out Sam was deliberately trying to be safe. It was unfortunate that this spontaneous movie night suggestion was about as subtle as…well, the rabbit-y thing himself. He was just glad that Max didn’t put up much of a fuss. He supposed the little guy was tired, with the whole ordeal they’d just gone through. Not to mention the head injury.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to keep his mind from thinking about that conversation. It still felt wrong to him, somehow. It still felt foreign. He knew he should’ve just forgotten about it. He tried convincing himself that he only did it for Max. That’s all. He absentmindedly lowered his hand onto the soft fabrics on the couch and pet them softly. He enjoyed the smooth touch as his mind wandered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In a way, that strange conversation actually made him kind of happy. Not because he died and Max was all alone, but because the lagomorph had really tried to save him. Sam should’ve given the little terror more credit. Max really was good…sometimes…rarely.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam couldn’t stop the small grin that found its way to his face. And to think earlier that same day he’d been resenting his best friend and thinking he would forget all about him. Well, the lagomorph <em>did</em> kinda forget, but Sam could let that go. The point was that Max cared about him. Just thinking that made him feel all warm inside in the weirdest and worst kind of way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was why he had to be careful. There was no way he was risking Max getting hurt or worse. He couldn’t. Obviously he wasn’t going to baby the guy, just…maybe tone the zaniness back a bit. For his own sake. There’s no way it would be as easy as he would like, Max attracted mayhem like a bright bug zapper on a back porch on a hot summer night attracts moths, but he would have to try. For Max’s health. The lagomorph wouldn’t take care of himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He still thought about old Max. Dying. It still hurt more than he wanted to admit. It still haunted him. At least this current Max got the chance to say goodbye. He wished he had been granted such a luxury. Instead, he had been stuck with Mr. Superego jerk-face who only even <em>considered</em> helping when it was already too late. And those spore, fake-Max things didn’t count either. They weren’t really him. What he wouldn’t give to have gotten a proper goodbye with his little buddy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Great. Now he got himself in a sour mood again. This is why he had to move past other Max’s death. That, and it was too difficult to properly bring up. But he couldn’t exactly ignore it. How could he? He was met with grisly reminders every single day. And that’s not exactly something you can just put away in a corner of your brain and forget about. He wasn’t like Max.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A loud crash of thunder interrupted his thoughts and startled him. He almost forgot about where he was, he was so stuck in his head. He blinked and looked back down to Max, who hadn’t stirred at the sound. Little guy had to have been asleep if he didn’t notice that. Sam was grateful he was actually resting, but was worried this would mean the little bundle of energy would be up all night…<em>again</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was something else he hadn’t realized when he’d reached his hand down earlier. He hadn’t been absentmindedly rubbing a blanket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was petting Max’s head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeah, okay, this day was already weird enough. He didn’t need to keep adding to it. <em>What the heck, universe?</em> He thought. How had that even happened? Hadn’t Max been awake just a minute ago? Did he notice? More questions raced through Sam’s head, further adding to his embarrassment and confusion. He quickly and instinctually brought his hand back to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would just pretend that never happened and hope Max was either asleep the whole time or wouldn’t remember it. How embarrassing. Sam crossed his hands over his chest so he could keep tabs on them and prevent them from wandering again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes flicked to the TV, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the nonsense that was on. He had suggested it more so Max would sit still for a while than to actually watch something. Though he didn’t really want to get caught up in his thoughts again. That didn’t really leave him with too many options.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He vaguely wondered if the commissioner would call with another case soon. Sometimes it could be upwards of a week between them, and with the recent call stating he would be on break for a while, Sam was worried that it would be even longer. It stunk, to say the least. He missed going out on cases more than he thought he would.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And yet, part of him was relieved that there were no calls. After all, their cases were especially dangerous. Never covered by the actual department. Risky. His eyes darted back to Max again. He couldn’t go through another dangerous case right now. Not after the last one. Though it kind of hurt to say, he was glad that they were on break.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe they could just make a living stopping petty thieves on the street. It wouldn’t pay nearly as well, but they didn’t need a lot to get by anyway. Or maybe Sam would get a different job to provide so Max could stay safe at home. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep the lagomorph cooped up, but it would be better than him dying in crossfire or something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to shake out this new, overwhelming sense of protectiveness that had suddenly overtaken him. He asked himself if he was going a bit overboard with this. Logically, he knew that he was, but the majority of the rest of him screamed no. He had already lost Max once and almost just lost him again a little while ago. Any step he could take to ensure that it would never happen again would be worth it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His mind wandered back to that conversation between Max and other Sam. It weighed heavily on his mind. It really set in just how serious of a situation it was. Max had even been panicking for a moment, like he was actually scared. That really was the last conversation the two had. Other Sam presumably died soon after. He was going to comment that he couldn’t even imagine what Max went through, but he’d lived through the exact same thing and he <em>could</em> imagine it. It sucked. He had missed Max more than he realized.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he <em>still</em> missed Max.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Darn it! Not that again! Max was <em>right here</em>! How many times did he have to remind himself of that? How long before it actually sunk in? How long would it be before he could blink or close his eyes to sleep and not see that horrible vision of Max waving goodbye to him?  How long before he finally accepted what had happened and moved on? He didn’t know and, frankly, didn’t want to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It felt selfish to say, but he couldn’t help it. He chastised himself. How could he even consider just forgetting all about his old Max like he’d never existed? It felt…disrespectful. And wrong. It made his heart ache to even think about it. He found himself jealous that Max could so easily forget this stuff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now what would he do? He appreciated the chance to get Max to do something safe and relaxing for a while, but at the same time he also hated sitting around doing nothing. He usually wasn’t as easily bored as Max. He supposed he could rest a bit himself, but he honestly wasn’t very tired. His mind still buzzed with activity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was always the TV. He hummed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would just wait things out for now. Surely things would go back to normal soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Surely.</p><hr/>
<p>This time when Max stirred he wasn’t confused as to where he was, which was good. He already knew he was on that horrible couch that he would have to get rid of one way or another. And he knew he had fallen asleep here because Sam was lame and didn’t want him doing fun stuff because of his dumb head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speaking of, the pain that had previously made him dizzy was now nothing more than a dull ache. He felt practically normal. The only way it would be cooler was if he ended up with psychic powers because of it. Ha! As if!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinked open his eyes and took in his surroundings. The TV was still on, but it was dark, otherwise. Was it late? How long had he been asleep? He couldn’t remember any kind of dream, though he usually never did, so that wasn’t much help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was pretty quiet. He could hear the TV still, but that familiar sound of rain pounding on the windows was distinctly absent. Sam wasn’t snoring directly in his ear, so that was good. Was Sam still sitting with him? The doof was weird. Why not just sit at his desk? Max didn’t need the guy sitting next to him 24/7.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was about to turn his head when a strange and slightly distant noise stopped him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It sounded like it was coming from the hallway just outside the office door. It was like…a voice? But it wasn’t Sam’s. Or, no wait. There was a brief pause and then there was a different voice, and <em>that</em> one was Sam’s. It grabbed Max’s attention right away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Someone was here? Max idly wondered who. He <em>was</em> just gonna get up to look, but he was still too comfortable to bother. Unless it was Flint Paper, he didn’t care enough to. And he could already tell from the voice’s muffled tone that it definitely wasn’t his favorite detective. Sam could just tell him who it was bothering them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wondered if Sam was telling them about him. He silently wished he could more clearly make out what they were saying, but they were too muffled, and it made his head hurt when he tried to strain himself listening. Oh well. Whoever it was would go away soon. Probably.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What was he going to do in the meantime? Sam had insisted he rest for the day, but right now he wanted to move. But he was also so comfortable? Urgh. Life was just full of difficult decisions. He blew a raspberry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was more muffled speaking. If whoever was out there left soon, then Sam would come back in and there’d finally be at least someone to talk to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, a clever little idea entered Max’s head. A plot of pure genius. If Sam still thought the lagomorph was asleep when he came back in, then Max had the element of surprise. Though he’d have to be patient, which was <em>not</em> a strong suit of his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had to persevere. This was probably going to end up being the only fun thing he did today. He had to make it count! He had to pretend to sleep and plan his attack. What would he say to surprise Sam? Maybe act possessed? Pretend to sleep talk and say something embarrassing to make him squirm? Wait for him to make the tiniest noise and complain that it woke the lagomorph up? The possibilities were limitless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His planning was interrupted when he saw the door start to open. Darn. He’d just have to improvise. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to look relaxed. It was a good thing he hadn’t moved from when he woke up, his face was still half buried in the soft fabrics. It helped sell it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Max?” A voice whisper-called him from the door. It was extremely familiar and definitely <em>wasn’t</em> Sam. Max probably should’ve been able to guess as to who it was, but the name escaped him. He blamed the head injury.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet for another moment before he heard a few footsteps approaching him. Max’s heart beat out of his chest. He had half a mind to jump out at the person to scare <em>them</em> but he knew it would be ten times funnier to do it to Sam. If they saw he was awake, his entire plan would be ruined!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The stranger peeled the blanket off of his face. He quickly made it a point to look disturbed and grabbed it back. Not to brag, but he was basically an acting legend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Whoever it was gasped slightly at his appearance before backing away. What could he say? He was quite a looker. They quickly went back to the door, rudely not even giving any compliments on his appearance, and stepped through, closing it behind them. Max waited until he heard more muted talking before he peeked his eyes open again. The stranger and Sam were speaking a bit more lively now, but he still couldn’t make out what they were saying and there was no way he was getting up to eavesdrop. He hoped they hadn’t noticed his alertness and was telling Sam about it. He waited for another moment, but they didn’t come rushing into the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cool. False alarm. Whoever it was, Max probably knew them pretty well. Definitely female. The name was on the very tip of his tongue. He was gonna feel <em>so dumb</em> when he actually remembered it. Or Sam told him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What were they even doing here? And what were they talking about with Sam? Was it Max? It was probably Max. He was a great conversation topic. The curiosity (and the desire for an ego boost) was slowly overtaking the lagomorph’s comfort. If they kept talking about him, he was gonna hop up and surprise them both by jumping out into the hallway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Man, if he’d known that this other person (whom he should probably know the name of) was gonna come into the office to make sure he was real, he would’ve hidden somewhere to make Sam look crazy. Now <em>that</em> would’ve been funny.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seemed to finally fully register with him that the rain had died down, now that he had a moment to focus on it. That meant crime fighting was back on the menu for the evening! Heck yeah! Finally something interesting and fun! He was just about to jump off the couch and tell Sam, even though the dog was fully aware of the change in weather by now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, the muffled speaking stopped and he could hear the creaking of footsteps in the hall. Presumably, their unexpected guest had left. Max would have to ask Sam who it was later, if he remembered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wasn’t he about to jump off the couch for something? Why was he still laying here again?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something about Sam. And scaring. Hmmm…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh! Right! He was gonna scare Sam when the dog stepped back in. He completely forgot! He also completely forgot that he was gonna forget about that because now he wanted to run on the wet streets and slap some cuffs on the dirty street urchins of the city (and also just slap them in general).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wait, where was he going with this? Now he’d confused himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max shut his eyes tightly to focus and shuffled a bit. The door opened not a moment later, and he heard Sam step back into the room. Right, scare Sam first, then go stop crimes. Best of both!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He heard the dog flick on the lights in the room, then walk over to the TV and switch it off. Guess that meant the big doof was as eager as he was. He heard the footsteps approach the couch and stop just in front of his face. Any second now…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max, I know you’re not really asleep.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinked his eyes open immediately, then had to squint to adjust to the light. That wasn’t Sam. Darn it! His entire prank was ruined!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked up at the dummy who ruined his fun. She was the same as always. Glasses, hair in a bun, bundle of some kind on her back. Actually, that last one was new. Or, at least Max was pretty sure it was new. He knew her well. She was that neighbor, the one who changed jobs, like, every day. Too bad her name escaped him, still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maaaan.” He groaned, sitting up while still wrapped up tightly in his blanket. “You were supposed to be Sam and you were supposed to be scared.” He grumbled in annoyance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not as convincing as you think.” She shrugged. “And, while I don’t want to know what it was, I can tell your plan probably wasn’t as funny as you wanted it to be.” She put her hands on her hips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max stopped listening after the first second of her talking. He was wracking his brain for a name. Started with an ‘S’. Or a ‘C’. Or maybe a ‘K’? Hmmm…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whatever, Sally,” he guessed, waving her off. “Who gave you permission to disturb me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “Sybil.” She responded quickly, as if she were expecting him to say that. Max scoffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She doesn’t book my appointments.” He tutted. “Guess I’ll have to give her the axe…” He grinned. “Literally.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, Max. <em>I’m</em> Sybil. Remember?” She readjusted her large glasses. “Your neighbor across the street? My office got destroyed? I had a baby?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max just nodded. “Oh. Okay, yeah. Suuuuure.” He clearly didn’t remember any of the details. He cocked his head to the side. “What’re you doing here? And where’s Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He said he was running an errand, I didn’t ask what.” Sybil replied. “I was just stopping by to check on him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh, grody.” Max stuck his tongue out in disgust. “What, are you his mom now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She deadpanned. “I may as well be, with how irresponsible the two of you are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, thanks but no thanks. I can’t handle someone coddling me like a baby all the time.” He shivered. “Eeeugh.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a pause in conversation after that, and Max got that feeling again. The one where it was like she was expecting him to say something. It was just for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sooo…” She spoke up. “Am I gonna have to ask, or are you just gonna tell me?” Sybil changed the subject.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ll have to torture me for the answers you want!” Max spat, forgetting all about his discomfort. “I ain’ sayin’ nothin’!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? No.” She recoiled in shock before shaking her head. “Are you gonna tell me how you got here, or…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re talking crazy, Sybil.” Max shrugged. “I live here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know what I mean.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He deflated slightly. “You’re no fun. <em>Fiiiine</em>.” He said with a dramatic sigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Basically, Sam turned into a monster, I blew him up, then I came here.” It was so simple. He was kind of tired of telling it. Maybe he’d make up some details to make it more engaging.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh huh…” Sybil slid a hand down her face. “And <em>how</em> did you come here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mama Bosco built me a time travelling elevator which allowed me to jump time streams to a reality where there was a Sam with no Max.” Max explained. It was mostly the truth. He <em>was</em> looking for a new timeline with a Sam similar to his own, but he wasn’t necessarily looking for one with no Max. He still thought the idea of there being two of him would be awesome. Or he could kill the other one and take his place. Sam would never know. Probably. But she didn’t need to know the details.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A what?” She furrowed her brow before groaning with annoyance. “You know what? Nevermind.” There was a brief pause. “So, now you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now I’m here!” Max confirmed. There was a brief moment where he felt tense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s…” She let out a breath and gave him a small smile. “That’s good, Max. I missed you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, I missed you too, Sandy.” Max smiled back at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were both quiet after that. Sybil continued awkwardly standing in front of him as he sat on the couch. Was she expecting something from him? Max didn’t know what. Why was everyone always waiting for him to say something in moments like this? It was getting really annoying. Why couldn’t they just talk to themselves or something instead of waiting on him all the time? Wouldn’t be so bad if they actually liked what he said when he <em>did</em> speak up in these moments. Not his fault the first thing that pops into his head is usually morbid and completely unrelated to the present topic.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a gross sounding babbling coming from behind Sybil’s head that snapped them both out of it. She turned her head slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aww, Georgie, do you want to meet Max?” She cooed at the bundle over her shoulder. Max grimaced while her head was turned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She didn’t notice. Obviously. Max was sneaky like that. She fumbled a bit and unstrapped the bundle from her back and held it in her arms. She poked at the bundle with one of her hands, readjusting the soft fabrics around it. Her eyes were gentle as she stared lovingly at it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then she looked back up to Max. She leaned down so he could look at the only thing in the room more bundled up than him. He didn’t really have any burning desire to stare at the drooling mess, though he did briefly consider baring his impressively sharp teeth at the thing to give it an early taste of true fear. He didn’t, though. Sybil probably would’ve hit him on his sensitive head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The baby was freaky. Very freaky. His head, which was huge, was made out of a whitish, stone-looking material. His arms and body, which were chubby and Max could only see bits and pieces of due to the blanket the hideous creature was in, looked like normal soft people flesh. Max really didn’t like babies, but this one was so outlandish and horrifying that he couldn’t help but be intrigued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Was he supposed to say something to it? It couldn’t talk back. Babies were like sacks of flour. Good for making a mess and sitting uselessly and that was about it. Wait, did that mean he could say any kind of obscene phrase or profane language in front of it with no repercussions? It was worth experimenting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cool.” Was all he said in a forced tone, making it a point to keep his arms securely at his sides in his blanket burrito. He wasn’t touching that thing. He could get a disease.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was another one of those strange and awkward silences. He was this close to just letting out a scream to break it. Sybil kept the baby in her arms, lightly bouncing the thing as she returned her attention to Max.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So…” She started slowly. “How’re things now that you’re back? Okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What was with all of the weird looks and questions? Did he have bedhead? Was he under investigation about something he couldn’t remember? He actually had an excuse as to why he was innocent this time. And an alibi. Man, he’d need to get a lawyer. Was Sybil ever a lawyer?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shrugged before he forgot what she asked. “Fine,” was all he said. “Bored just sitting here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hummed in understanding. “You haven’t gone out on any cases?” She pressed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook his head. “Nah. We stopped some criminals the last few nights, but nothing really exciting. Isn’t that the worst? I just wanna bash some skulls together with reckless abandon. I’m not that complicated.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I see.” She put a hand on her chin in thought for a moment. “And how’re things with Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Same as usual.” He gave another shrug, lying. Things definitely were <em>not</em> usual, but he wasn’t going to get into that with her. “He must’ve missed being a second-in-command. Can’t blame the guy. He’s basically bent to my will ever since I got here.” He finished that sentence with a devilish grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think it’s obvious that he missed you.” Sybil confirmed. “But I’m sure you missed him, too. Didn’t you say you were looking for a timeline with a Sam but no Max?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Psssh, hardly.” Max waved it off with another lie. “I just wanted to get away for a while. Besides, I hated everyone acting all weird about me in my own timeline. Kept giving me these looks and talked in this horribly irritating way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He remembered that? He could’ve sworn that all of those memories were gone. Was this because he hit his head? Or maybe it was because Sybil was once a psycho-whatzit? Huh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Weird how?” Sybil prodded, clearly analyzing him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t realize you made house calls, doc.” Max’s expression flattened as he changed the subject. “You charge double for that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Normally, yes.” She nodded. “But you guys can be an exception.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max hummed. There was another pause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, forget that question.” Sybil waved it off out of existence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Way ahead of you.” Max nodded, unaware she’d even asked anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How’re you-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Say, you came to check on Sam, right?” Max interrupted, blurting out the first thing on his mind again so he wouldn’t be subjected to more boring questions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah. That’s right.” Sybil was slightly thrown off guard by the interruption, but confirmed anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” Max asked. “I mean, you’ve never checked in on us before.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, to be fair, I didn’t know you were here. If I did, I would’ve stayed far away.” Sybil humored him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aww, you mean it?” Max almost blushed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But, you know, he was…” She trailed off for a moment to find her words. “There was the whole <em>you</em> situation, and…he wasn’t really taking it well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max blinked. Now that he thought about it, he really <em>didn’t</em> know about this whole “him situation.” He only got bits and pieces. A few telltale signs of destruction. Far off, flashback riddled expressions on the faces of his friends. Strange pauses in conversation. Had he never asked? He had to of, right? Sam probably just froze up and didn’t answer. Like always.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Was the big doof really that torn up about it? Jeez. Max knew he was great and all, but for Sam to get so broken up about it he needed to be checked on? That was just sad. Guy needed to be more emotionally independent. Like Max, who definitely did <em>not</em> travel across timelines just so he could see his best friend again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wait, what was the question?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The what?” He asked as a refresher.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, the whole ‘giant monster’ thing.” Sybil waved a hand in the air for emphasis. “You turned into a giant monster and we tried to change you back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, right, right. Happens all the time.” Max nodded. “Then what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then, uh…” She shook her head. “Well, my water broke while we were trying to fix you, so I don’t know the full story. But from what I caught on the news, you disappeared. I assumed you were just back to normal at first. It wasn’t until later I learned the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ugh, why did everyone always look so sad all of the time these days? Was he in a timeline full of sad saps? Well, Max supposed he could kind of understand it here. He was an icon. The President of the United States. It made sense as to why people would be heartbroken at his passing. But why did everyone walk on eggshells about it? Just say he was dead and move on. Max hated dwelling on this stuff. That’s why he forgot unimportant stuff like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, he was here again, so everything should be normal and happy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what, you checking on Sam to make sure he isn’t moping around, doing nothing but looking sad, and telling jokes to himself?” Max gave a small laugh. “As if. Sam’s a softie, but he handles himself just fine on his own.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sybil gave him a look. A look that said something Max couldn’t quite discern.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did you feel?” She asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When Sam was gone.” She clarified. “How did you feel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t react right away. There was a part of him that already knew the answer. If how he had begged and pleaded on his hands and knees to Mama Bosco to help him was any indication, he was completely torn up about other Sam. Or maybe he just really liked the idea of travelling through time was just desperate to do it. Not that he would reveal any of this to Sybil. She was too nosy about this stuff. It’s not like it mattered now. He was here and Sam was back, so there was no issue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Eh. Finally got some peace and quiet.” He shrugged in reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max, you hate the quiet.” Sybil pointed out quickly. Darn. She was good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, and I hate peace. What of it?” He challenged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sighed. “Max, I’m not gonna push you to talk about it. I’m just trying to get you to understand what he was going through.” She put a hand up in defeat while the other supported the baby.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was another pause after that as Max absorbed the information she presented him with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is that why he’s all jumpy these days?” He asked eventually. “Cuz it’s annoying that I don’t even get all the gory details.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jumpy how?” Sybil asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know. Whenever I even try to bring up this other Max he freezes up and starts stuttering and being annoying.” He gave an exaggerated groan. “It’s the <em>worst</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, I’m fairly confident that whole ‘you dying right in front of him’ thing might be the cause of that.” Sybil nodded before shrugging slightly. Another pause. “Look at you, figuring stuff out and piecing things together all by yourself.” She spoke condescendingly at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks! Solving things is in my top fifty favorite things to do.” Max ignored the tone and took the compliment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No!” Max countered. “That’s Sam’s thing. I’d much rather shoot. Or maim. Or scratch. Or beat. Or tra-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I get it, thanks.” She stopped him before he could go any further on his list.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, how do I get him to stop doing that?” He asked, surprisingly serious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, everyone’s different about this stuff.” Sybil started. “You could indirectly bring it up, or maybe compare it to your own situation, letting him know how losing him made you feel.” She suggested. “Just to encourage him to want to talk about his own feelings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max gagged. “Eugh. You’re gonna make me puke. I haven’t been indirect about anything in my life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or, you <em>could</em> confront him about it directly, but I’d only recommend that if nothing else works.” Sybil stared hard at him for a moment. “Did you get that? <em>Only as a last resort</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max waved her off. “Yeah, yeah. First thing I’m gonna try, got it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Max, I’m serious.” Sybil narrowed her eyes at the lagomorph. “People get defensive and shut down because direct approaches often feel like attacks. Do not start a fight with Sam because you’re frustrated about his behavior. I’m sure he is, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Relax, Sybs, I won’t.” Max reassured her. She didn’t look convinced. “I just want him to stop freaking out all the time, that’s all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She seemed to believe that. Her expression softened. “Speaking of, if you wanted to talk about everything <em>you’ve</em> gone through, I can listen. I’m probably going to be here for a while, anyway.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a pause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max furrowed his invisible eyebrows. “What does that mean?” He asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looked confused. “What does what mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That you’re gonna be here for a while.” He explained. “I thought you were just checking in on Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, right.” Sybil nodded. “I was, but he asked me to stick around for a little while. Keep an eye on you so you don’t burn the place down while he’s gone. He thought you were still asleep and he didn’t want to freak you out by his absence if you woke up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Max responded. “Cool.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She started talking to her baby in that annoying baby-talk voice after he didn’t give a further response. Max tuned her out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though he said it, he certainly didn’t feel like this was “Oh, cool.” Why did knowing that last thing she told him make him feel bad? It made him mad. Insulted. Did Sam really think he needed a babysitter? His head hardly hurt anymore. Was the doof really worried that much about it? That was getting annoying, too. His worrying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam wasn’t the one with the injury and he wasn’t the one who was being held prisoner in his own office. Okay, that was a slight exaggeration. Max wasn’t being held against his will. If he got up and walked out, he was sure Sybil would let him, but it was the principle of the matter. It was the fact that Sam had asked her to do that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe he was overreacting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Max didn’t like Sam worrying. Mostly because it was annoying, but there was also a little nagging feeling that made him feel bad about it. Though what it was, he couldn’t say. All he knew was Sam worrying made <em>him</em> worry, which was also a weird feeling. It was like his stomach was doing these cool flips and turns. Or like he was clasping his hands together while standing on the front porch of his modest mid-American home, sadly watching his husband go off to war, perhaps never to return.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, weird comparison.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What was he worried about again?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wait, had Sybil said something to him and was expecting a response? He looked over to the mother. And then quickly recoiled in horror.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was even worse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was rocking the little terror she called a child and cooing at it in an absolutely disgusting display. How long would he have to be subjected to such torture?!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had better get his dumb butt back soon with an explanation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or else.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I realize this one ended kind of abruptly, but it was already at 9400 words and I didn't want to force more conversation and make it too repetitive. Sorry!</p>
<p>I may have lied in my last chapter notes. It's looking like this will likely end up being 7 chapters, not 6, but I'm still not going to set that in stone until I'm 100% certain.</p>
<p>Speaking of, I'm still only in the planning phases of chapter 6, so it will likely be a while before it actually gets uploaded. Thank you for your patience :)<br/>Normally I wouldn't upload unless I have at least started the next chapter, but I felt like you've waited long enough for this one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Suffocation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one took a lot longer than I'd anticipated. Thanks for your patience!</p><p>To make up for it, it's the longest chapter so far! Just shy of 11,000 words!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few days were pretty good, if Sam said so himself. Granted, pretty much anything would be better than that bizarre, backwards day he and Max had. He’d much rather forget about it completely, but the conversations and situations they’d found themselves in that day kept coming back up and reminding him, either from his busy brain or from the awkward silences that continued plaguing the two.</p><p> </p><p>Max was more prone to breaking those now, though. Sam was partly thankful for that, but something felt off. Still. Again.</p><p> </p><p>Max was acting different. Like, different from how different he had been acting before. A new different. And Sam was starting to get annoyed by it.</p><p> </p><p>It was like the lagomorph was intentionally trying to get on his nerves. Climbing on him, interrupting him, speaking too loudly or intentionally incomprehensibly. That stuff wasn’t really unusual, but it was like his little pal was going out of his way to pester Sam with it all. He was going overboard.</p><p> </p><p>And that wasn’t even including the unnecessarily dangerous stuff the guy was doing.</p><p> </p><p>Climbing on the walls, throwing sharp or heavy objects around recklessly, juggling his gun? Sam had to keep close watch to ensure Max didn’t end up hurting himself. But he also had to be subtle enough so the lagomorph wouldn’t catch on.</p><p> </p><p>And while the dog was trying to keep things as normal as he could, he was working extra hard to ensure they remained cautious and safe in pretty much every situation. He’d already come up with excuses involving his health as to why they couldn’t stop crimes the previous few nights, he knew Max wouldn’t have fun doing them without him. But he could already tell the rabbit-y thing was getting cabin fever. He was too, to an extent. The freelance police needed to keep entertained somehow.</p><p> </p><p>He had suggested visiting Bosco Tech or Sybil, but Max didn’t really like those ideas. They couldn’t seem to agree on anything to do. Max’s ideas were all too dangerous and Sam’s were too safe. There was no comfortable middle ground.</p><p> </p><p>All of Max’s suggestions only served to make Sam nervous. They made his gut twist in sickening knots. He had been able to laugh most of them off as jokes, but found he couldn’t when Max eagerly blathered about what he would do to any criminals they found that evening.</p><p> </p><p>He was thankful the lagomorph was currently preoccupied by throwing darts as hard as he could at the dartboard by the door. As long as he didn’t do anything rash, like throw them directly into the air to stick into the ceiling or juggle them, Sam was alright with it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pent up, Sam!” Max whined, running to the dartboard to gather the little death sticks. “I haven’t shot at anybody in days! I think it’s making me woozy. I feel faint!” He put a hand to his forehead and stumbled a bit while they spent another lazy, late afternoon in their office.</p><p> </p><p>Sam tensely kept his mouth shut. He was still figuring out what excuse he could come up with tonight to keep Max in for the night. He supposed he could fake sick again, he really didn’t want to go out and risk Max getting hurt again. The lagomorph was still recovering from his head injury. Probably. Him stumbling around like he was only served to make Sam more nervous.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, look, I get it.” Max turned to him. “You’ve been under the weather or whatever, but you’ve got to be right as rain today! And besides, stopping criminals will get your blood pumpin’. It’s good for you!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam turned his head to the side slightly and avoided direct eye contact. “Yeah, we’ll see, little buddy.” He vaguely responded. “To be honest, I kinda like the nights in, too.” It was a lie, but a necessary one. He hated sitting around doing nothing with a passion, but he was willing to make that sacrifice if he could keep tabs on Max.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a horrible liar, Sam.” Max wagged a finger dismissively. “But don’t feel bad. It can’t be helped that you don’t share my awesome immune system.”</p><p> </p><p>Max was being surprisingly understanding and rational about this, despite the fact he was still working to get what he wanted. It only made Sam feel guiltier about lying to him. Maybe he was overreacting. They’ve done dumb, dangerous stuff for years and they only sometimes got seriously injured. And Max had only died <em>once</em>. Why would it be any different now?</p><p> </p><p>Images of Max-thulu (as he started calling it) and Max’s unmoving form after he hit his head flashed through Sam’s mind, quickly silencing any argument that started up within him. He couldn’t do it. Seeing Max in danger made him <em>actually</em> feel sick. He couldn’t go through all of that again.</p><p> </p><p>He must’ve shown some of his concern on his face, because Max gave him a look.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Sam?” He started, bringing the dog back to reality. “Don’t tell me you’re as sick as you look.”</p><p> </p><p>Was Max…giving Sam the excuse he was so desperately looking for? He wasn’t going to take that for granted or pass up the opportunity, that’s for sure.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yeah…” He started, only half lying. “I didn’t want to get you all upset, but I really don’t feel right tonight.” He shook his head, making it a point to keep that nauseated look on his face. “Sorry, little buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, unlike the previous nights, Max didn’t pout or stomp or yell. He just shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Was all he said before continuing to throw darts aggressively at the dartboard again.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not disappointed?” Sam couldn’t help but ask, wincing slightly with each thump that came from a dart connecting with the board at alarming speeds.</p><p> </p><p>Max threw another one. “I’m kinda used to it now.” He didn’t turn to look at Sam when he said it. He spoke almost as calmly and reasonably as a regular person. He aimed and forcefully threw another dart.</p><p> </p><p>Bullseye.</p><p> </p><p>Another twist in Sam’s gut. Max’s reaction was unusual. <em>Concerningly</em> unusual. Max didn’t usually just let stuff like that slide, and the way he was throwing those sharp little pieces of metal and plastic only had Sam more worried.</p><p> </p><p>There was a tense silence after that brief interaction. Sam knew he should probably say something, but he froze up again. What would he say? Anything he could think of would end just end up with him spilling the fact that he was lying about not feeling well. Though, he supposed he really <em>wasn’t</em> feeling well at this point, but that was just because of his overwhelming concerns about Max’s safety, not because he was actually sick.</p><p> </p><p>He knew it wasn’t healthy. He knew that he was being ridiculous, but the haunting images of losing Max were far too much. He didn’t care about how lame Max thought he would be because of this, he had to keep the lagomorph safe because...</p><p> </p><p>Sam looked down at the floor, more tense and uncomfortable than ever.</p><p> </p><p>He almost didn’t notice as a dart flew right past his head and imbedded into the old calendar hanging on the wall behind his desk. But he did. And it startled him.</p><p> </p><p>He lifted his head to stare down the culprit, who stood innocently with his hands behind his back in front of the large desk the dog sat behind. A familiar feeling of awkwardness began rising as Sam struggled thinking of what to say. What had Max wanted from him? There must’ve been a reason for the lagomorph to throw a dart right at his head, right?</p><p> </p><p>Well, he supposed it wasn’t terribly unusual for his little buddy to almost impale him like that for no reason. Perhaps he should just chalk it up to standard shenanigans.</p><p> </p><p>“Sam, let’s eat.” Max interrupted Sam’s thoughts. “I’m bored and tired of throwing things without a proper target. Can I bring the darts and stab pedestrians at a distance while we walk to get some grub?”</p><p> </p><p>Ah, so it was something simple. That’s good.</p><p> </p><p>“Only if you’ve been working on your ‘innocent bystander’ face.” Sam stood up and stretched his back. “Last thing we need is you getting into a fight with some stranger.”</p><p> </p><p>“Only because we’d have to take them to the hospital.”</p><p> </p><p>“And that’s pretty much at the bottom of my list of things I want to do tonight.” Sam walked to the door and held it open for Max before stepping through after the lagomorph.</p><hr/><p>Okay, was this wrong, what Max was doing? Because part of him felt like it was wrong somehow. No, no. It was necessary. He <em>had</em> to do this. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t <em>control</em> himself anymore.</p><p> </p><p>If Sam wasn’t going to do anything, then he would. Max usually had to take charge anyway. This was just like anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Sam was being UN. BEAR. ABLE. It was driving Max absolutely crazy. Bonkers, even. There was something seriously wrong with the dog, and the rabbit-y thing was completely fed up with it. He wasn’t going to sit idly by anymore. He cared too much about this to wait any longer.</p><p> </p><p>He realized he’d been tense and acted out of character before dinner, but he couldn’t contain his building frustrations. Part of him felt lucky Sam even let him throw those darts around without freaking out.</p><p> </p><p>You want to know what Max had done the last few days? Nothing. Absolutely <em>nothing</em>. No shooting, no biting, no maiming, hardly any throwing of anything even <em>remotely</em> dangerous, no walking anywhere further than the nearest food places he wasn’t banned from, no crime fighting, <em>nothing</em>. It was horrendous. He was being tortured in his own home by his best friend. Depraved of all forms of entertainment by the person he trusted the most.</p><p> </p><p>These had been some of the worst days of his life, maybe even worse than that time Sam died and he was all alone. Though, to be fair, he still didn’t really remember those days. Maybe they weren’t even that bad. Maybe they were fun, even. Maybe. Probably not.</p><p> </p><p>Why had he not done anything, you might ask?</p><p> </p><p>Because Sam kept giving him this look every time Max tried something fun. Like the poor little puppy would burst into tears because big mean Max played chicken on the road. Or, even worse, the dog would give “suggestions” when Max started throwing stuff around. He had suggested other things the lagomorph could do. <em>Boring</em> things the lagomorph could do.</p><p><br/>Well Max didn’t care anymore. He had a plan. A plan <em>besides</em> shooting Sam right in his dumb, soft face. This was the next best thing, and if Sam ruined this too, then Max <em>would</em> shoot him with zero hesitation. That’s how fed up he was.</p><p> </p><p>The lagomorph tried to pretend everything was fine when they went to dinner. He sat in silence with Sam. And walked home in silence with Sam. And sat at home in silence with Sam. Just biding his time. It was most unusual, for the lagomorph to focus and wait for an opportunity like this, but Max knew he would have to be patient for his plan to work.</p><p> </p><p>He felt like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up. The cool kind that would, like, blow open a bank vault or something, not one a criminal would use in a crowd of people. That would be messed up. Those were the very kinds of people Max wanted to beat up.</p><p> </p><p>Wait, where were we?</p><p> </p><p>Ah, right. The plan.</p><p> </p><p>He waited until Sam fell asleep that night. That part wasn’t unusual or difficult. He did it most every night these days anyway. At the telltale signs of the dog snoring, he jumped out of bed and, with a quiet thump, landed on their bedroom floor. He had to be sneaky, but he was pretty good at avoiding waking the doof.</p><p> </p><p>All it took was a quick, quiet hop to the door, a slow twist of the handle, and a pull. Freedom.</p><p> </p><p>Max clicked the bedroom door shut softly behind him as he stood in the hallway. He kept tiptoeing to the stairs, just in case, though by now he was basically good to go.</p><p> </p><p>A quick jaunt down the stairwell and through the front door and he was finally free from Sam’s suffocating clutches. He let out a huge, audible sigh of relief. This felt <em>good</em>. Max blinked and stopped for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t exactly sure why he had gone to such lengths to sneak out. He could’ve just said what he was doing and where he was going instead of this sneaky spy stuff. Maybe it was the thrill. Sam wouldn’t have stopped him…probably. Maybe. Though, considering his odd behavior recently, Max was sure the dog would at least <em>try</em> to dissuade him from it. Not that anything could stop Max when he put his mind to something. He could even ignore Sam’s pleading, puppy-dog look if he wanted to…He was just glad he didn’t have to.</p><p> </p><p>Just because Sam was a giant stick in the mud didn’t mean Max couldn’t have fun and let off steam. Max would have encouraged the dog to stop crimes if <em>he</em> were feeling like garbage. Not that he’d ever get sick or feel bad enough to <em>not</em> want to stop crimes.</p><p> </p><p>Sam was understanding about this stuff. Max had needs. Like the need to pummel people in the street unrestrained and unchecked in a wildly over-the-top and violent form of justice. Sam knew that. Sam understood that.</p><p> </p><p>So why did Max feel weird about this still, like he was doing something <em>wrong?</em> Like <em>he</em> was the criminal?</p><p> </p><p>That was the only thing that made him hesitate. He could’ve just turned around and went back inside. It would’ve been easy to pretend like this had never happened. Sam wouldn’t have any idea. This felt like some sort of violation of trust. He found all of his anger and frustration at the dog slowly dissolving to nothing. He was sure his best friend didn’t mean any harm by being all weird about everything. He would never mean any harm to Max. The lagomorph knew that all too well. Sam was always right about this stuff. That’s why Max trusted him.</p><p> </p><p>He steeled himself. He <em>had </em>to do this. He’d explode if he spent another minute sitting in the office doing nothing. Bored him to death. Or at least a deep sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of sleep, would Sam question why Max would be tired the following day? Would he be suspicious? Or would he not care because a sleeping Max meant he could keep being boring and lame? Max felt a spark of frustration at that, but extinguished it.</p><p> </p><p>What had caused the sudden change in his partner? It was like one minute everything was fine, and the next, Sam turned into some kind of scardey cat. It was the worst. Max had been too annoyed and frustrated by the change of behavior to really get into the whys or hows before now.</p><p> </p><p>He tried thinking back to when he first noticed the change, but he couldn’t remember. He knew it was a few days ago. Like, two or three or something like that. But otherwise he was drawing a blank. The boring days had all started blending together in his head.</p><p> </p><p>He remembered when he got hit on the head by his bowling ball (unrelated, but it would be a great way to stop potential perps) and he could remember that conversation he’d had with other Sam. Or, he supposed it was <em>this</em> Sam pretending to be other Sam. Anyway. Then he did something else or he talked to someone? He couldn’t remember. It felt important somehow, though. Next thing he knew, Sam was being all weird and clingy.</p><p> </p><p>And the sad part was, Max was pretty sure the dog was trying to be subtle about it. He wasn’t, obviously. Or maybe Max was just extremely smart and clever and handsome and good at noticing things like this. It was probably the latter. The only thing the lagomorph couldn’t figure out was <em>why</em>. Why was Sam acting so strangely all of the sudden? Had something happened? Something he couldn’t remember?</p><p> </p><p>Max had almost gotten used to the trailing off and the freezing up and the stuttering. He could <em>maybe</em> live with that stuff. But this lame, no fun version of Sam? He really didn’t like it.</p><p> </p><p>It made him kind of sad to think about that, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He flat out didn’t like being in Sam’s company at the moment because the dog forgot how to have any fun. If things got worse, Max would have to find a different timeline.</p><p> </p><p>Did he still have that time travelling elevator? Darn. He’d have to find it again. Or bug Mama Bosco enough that she’d build him another one. This place was turning into a total bust. Maybe he was foolish to think everything would just go back to normal now that he was here. He supposed he couldn’t alter the past <em>that</em> much. Or, wait…maybe…?</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head. He knew he wasn’t going to just abandon Sam and run away in the middle of the night. He paused and looked at where he was, quite literally sneaking out like some kind of delinquent. <em>This isn’t running away</em>. Max convinced himself. <em>I’m just going to work</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He stepped down the stairs onto the sidewalk outside of their building. There wasn’t enough light to fully make out the sky, but it was overcast and rain threatened to pour. <em>Again</em>. There was a slight chill in the air. Made Max realize he hadn’t paid attention to the weather in the slightest the last few days. Thanks to Sam, he didn’t need to.</p><p> </p><p>The streets were illuminated by the familiar yellow glow from streetlights on every corner, though traffic was almost nonexistent on their quiet street. Alleys were dark, yet teeming with the lives of vermin. Vermin of every kind.</p><p> </p><p>The air smelled of justice and city smog, and Max was absolutely elated. This might’ve been the best idea he had since…well, he couldn’t really think of any of his other ideas right now. That just further cemented how great this one was. He was pretty sure that’s how the logic of that worked.</p><p> </p><p>All he had to focus on now would be to stop some perps and get home before Sam woke up. He could call the station from the office phone and let them know he’d had a busy night being the greatest police officer ever (and also so the department could bring the criminals he’d detained in). Then he could just sleep all day because it’s not like he was going to go anywhere or do anything anyway. This would be good. He could do this every night until they got a case. Maybe Sam would act normal when the commissioner inevitably called.</p><p> </p><p>He threw Sam out of his head. He could worry about all of that junk later. Or forget about it. All he wanted to do was run around right now. Shoot stuff (or people). Bite someone. He just wanted to be a freelance police officer for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Even if he had to do it alone.</p><hr/><p>Another horrible dream startled Sam to full alertness. He had watched helplessly as Max fell off of the roof of their office building. The lagomorph had been clambering on the ledge and jumping around like usual. And then he fell. And Sam couldn’t catch him.</p><p> </p><p>He woke up before the little guy hit the ground.</p><p> </p><p>He sharply gasped and quickly sat up in his bed. It felt like he was suffocating. Icy cold fear gripped at his body, making him shake and shudder. His lungs hurt with every greedy breath he took. His shaking caused the entire bunk to move and shift. He’d be concern about waking Max up if that were what was on his mind.</p><p> </p><p>It felt like he couldn’t breathe. Images of Max falling to the ground kept flashing in front of his eyes. He willed them to go away. Tried convincing himself it was just a dream. But it didn’t do much to calm his frazzled nerves.</p><p> </p><p>Powerless. Helpless. Failure.</p><p> </p><p>Those three words kept tormenting Sam. They ganged up on him to kick him while he was down. This was why he needed to keep tabs. This was why he had to stay in control. So nothing bad would happen to Max.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what he would do if he lost his little buddy. He didn’t even want to imagine it. He wouldn’t ever be happy if he were left all alone again. Max infuriated him and annoyed him to no end, sure, but he couldn’t even imagine doing anything without the lagomorph.</p><p> </p><p>They were best friends.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking about that and refocusing his breathing brought Sam back, albeit slowly. It took him the better part of a minute to stop shaking, and another two before his heart stopped wanting to beat out of his chest and returned to a regular rhythm.</p><p> </p><p>He was fine. Max was fine. Everything was okay. He was still in control and would keep Max safe. He kept repeating that to himself, though he didn’t really believe it.</p><p> </p><p>His best course of action from here would probably be to just go back to sleep and try and forget that horrible nightmare. He hoped he didn’t wake Max up with his sudden jolt awake. He had half a mind to get up and peek over the top of the bunk to make sure, but he didn’t. Max would’ve yelled at him if he had been woken up. That, and Sam really didn’t want to stand right now.</p><p> </p><p>The dog let his head hit the pillow with a soft thump. The bed creaked in response. He started in the murky darkness up at the ceiling. Or in this case, the bottom of Max’s bunk. He let out a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>What was he doing?</p><p> </p><p>The question appeared suddenly, unwelcome and intrusive in his brain.</p><p> </p><p>What <em>was</em> he doing?</p><p> </p><p>His gut instinct was to respond with “keeping Max safe,” but that answer suddenly felt hollow and fake. Like a mask.</p><p> </p><p>So what was he doing?</p><p> </p><p>He was protecting himself.</p><p> </p><p>And it was shameful and embarrassing to admit. Sam wasn’t the kind of guy that needed protecting. He didn’t get himself into bad situations (or, at least not as often as Max), and even when he did, he always thought of a way out. That’s what he did. It was what he was good at. But every situation before now had been easy.</p><p> </p><p>This time he was against himself.</p><p> </p><p>He was terrified. Not that he would admit that to anyone, but the feeling had ingrained itself so deep inside of him that it felt like his stomach had become a black hole. Not in the fact that he could eat anything and everything…though a snack would be nice, now that he thought of it. Rather, it was like his gut had dropped through his feet into the crust of the Earth below and sucked in all that felt safe and normal. It left Sam teetering on a tightrope with Max precariously perched on his shoulders, and the more the lagomorph shook and shifted, the more difficult it was to keep balance.</p><p> </p><p>Sam blinked. Well that was colorful and descriptive language. Was this a creative writing course? Is that why there were so many strange and confusing metaphors and unique descriptors?</p><p> </p><p>The point was that he was scared. He was horrified that he would lose Max again with no second chances (or, rather, third chances). Horrified something bad would happen to his little buddy due to his own negligence and lack of observation. Horrified that he’d be left all alone again.</p><p> </p><p>And he knew this was unusual for him to worry about. He knew it wasn’t the kind of thing he would ever talk about or mention. Normally, it wouldn’t even be a thought that crossed his mind. He knew that he had been acting different and starting to show his fear, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he was boring or lame or whatever other insult Max would throw at him for his behavior. The only thing he cared about was protecting himself from this debilitating fear. That meant protecting Max.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing else mattered right now. At least not until he got through this. He just needed some time to calm down about all of this and stabilize himself so things could go back to normal again.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he probably wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight, was he? The dog grumbled slightly and sat up again, causing more groaning and shifting from the bunks.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he should grab a snack. Food usually calmed him down and dinner had been kind of light. Maybe he’d take a walk in the office until he settled down. He was sure it was late, though he couldn’t be sure of the time. He needed his rest so he could keep an eye on Max. So he could keep him safe. Last thing he needed to do was fall asleep and wake up to find Max had impaled himself or knocked himself out doing something stupid.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, he was exaggerating again. That wouldn’t happen. Probably. Max wasn’t a child.</p><p> </p><p>Even if he acted like it sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>Sam begrudgingly left the warm comforts of his familiar bed and stepped onto his feet onto the cold wooden floor. He instantly felt the absence of the warm blanket. It was almost enough to make him plop back down and forget this. But he didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>His gaze moved up to the top bunk to see if he’d woken Max. It was dark and difficult to see. He squinted.</p><p> </p><p>Well, the good news was he hadn’t.</p><p> </p><p>The bad news was that Max wasn’t there.</p><p> </p><p>Sam quieted his initial panic quickly. He shouldn’t have been that surprised. Ever since Max had shown up he’d been having trouble sleeping. He was probably in the office, doing who knows what. His gut twisted into knots regardless of how he thought he <em>should’ve</em> reacted. It was a familiar feeling, though unwelcome.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps he should’ve just let the lagomorph be. Max had been rather annoyed with the dog’s behavior and “sickness” the last few days. Sam didn’t need to be clingy and weird. But at the same time, not knowing just made him feel worse. What if Max wasn’t in the office? Or what if something had happened? What if Max needed his help? More what ifs ran through Sam’s head.</p><p> </p><p>It was enough to convince him. A check-in wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t waste any time stepping out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway. The single light that used to illuminate the hall must have broken with the stairs and the hole in the ceiling. It wasn’t a big deal. Sam knew the way down like the back of his hand. He looked up and eyed the sky as he made his way towards the stairs. Still night, though he couldn’t tell the time. He wasn’t sure whether to interpret the fact that it was night as a good thing or not. He had other, more pressing things on his mind, so he didn’t ponder that for long.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly and carefully traversed down the dark, broken stairs to the office on the second floor. His heart began to pound loudly in his ears, though he couldn’t explain why. It was a strange, sinking feeling he had that he couldn’t shake.</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and opened the office door.</p><p> </p><p>It was dark.</p><p> </p><p>Quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Max was gone.</p><hr/><p>Okay, so this was, like, the best idea Max had ever had? He couldn’t believe how long he’d gone without bashing heads against pavement and brick walls. There was nothing like the resounding smack of flesh against concrete followed by the sniveling and whining afterwards. A beautiful sound.</p><p> </p><p>Max wasn’t evil, despite what people may say. He didn’t beat perps to the point they’d be hospitalized. He just roughed ‘em up a bit. Gave ‘em a few bruises to remember him by. The department had quickly put a stop to Sam and Max’s more “extreme” disciplinary action. They threatened to have the freelance police be the ones to front any and all hospital bills themselves. That was <em>just</em> enough to have Sam convince Max to ease up.</p><p> </p><p>That being said, Max had a hard time containing himself now that he was on his own. Usually Sam would tell him when to stop or distract him with something, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen tonight. Max had to judge this stuff on his own and he wasn’t very good at it. Well, that’s not quite right. He was <em>too</em> good at his job. That’s what it was. Definitely left a few chipped teeth and cracked ribs with the perps that he had cuffed to mailboxes and streetlamps.</p><p> </p><p>Oh well. Maybe if they weren’t doing crime they wouldn’t have ended up bruised and bloody in the street. That’s not Max’s fault.</p><p> </p><p>Max had been working hard for the better part of an hour or two, and it was taking a toll on him. Normally he wouldn’t have been so easily winded, but due to all of his travel being on foot, it took a bit more out of him.</p><p> </p><p>Good thing Sam wasn’t here. The dog would’ve probably passed out from exhaustion by now because of how out of shape he was.</p><p> </p><p>Darn it. He was doing it again. Max had told himself to stop thinking about Sam while he was out. It made him feel weird in his gut. Made him feel bad for sneaking out like he had.</p><p> </p><p>He wondered if Sam had woken up and noticed he was gone. It made him feel tingly, which was kind of cool, but also didn’t do any favors for that weird feeling in his gut. Or the guilt that had found its way into his conscience.</p><p> </p><p>What was Sam even going to do if he <em>did</em> see Max was gone? Go out looking for him? Yeah, right. The doof wouldn’t even know where to start. Max shouldn’t have concerned himself with this. He was going to finish work then go back home and Sam would be none the wiser. Or he <em>would</em> be wiser but wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.</p><p> </p><p>And if he tried, Max would hit him.</p><p> </p><p>There was a rumbling noise in the distance to distract him, but Max couldn’t tell if it was the low rolling of thunder or a truck driving on the overpass.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of the overpass, it was a common hangout for criminals and their drug dens. Sounded like a good spot for Max to visit. Shady individuals always hung out there. Either that or the homeless. Same difference to him. He didn’t have anywhere better to be.</p><p> </p><p>He challenged himself to a race as he started a leisurely jog down the street. He wasn’t too invested, though. He was sure he would win either way. His mind wandered as he went.</p><p> </p><p>There was some deeper emotion underneath all of his grievances with Sam, but he couldn’t place what it was. The dog had been driving him crazy to the point where he wanted to whale on the guy, but he also knew he wouldn’t ever seriously hurt him. He’d hit him, but not to the point it would hurt for longer than a minute. It was how he showed affection.</p><p> </p><p>They’d been partners forever. Ever since they were kids they had been inseparable. Max just supposed he was so used to the things that they did that he never thought about any of the implications or meaning behind any of it.</p><p> </p><p>Sam was a constant. Consistent. He was always there.</p><p> </p><p>Well, except for that time when he wasn’t. You know, that time when he was dead.</p><p> </p><p>Max slowed down to a slow walk. He tried to remember. He knew he had been upset about the whole “losing Sam” thing, but he couldn’t exactly place what he’d done or said or really felt. He remembered the hug goodbye, then the begging for the time machine, then stepping out and seeing Sam again, but not much else. Why couldn’t he remember? Asking tough questions like that only made him frustrated. Things were supposed to be normal now.</p><p> </p><p><em>Sam </em>wasn’t normal. Sometimes (especially now), Max didn’t even recognize the guy. He still knew everything about the dog, but he just couldn’t help but feel like something was still wrong. Like he was missing something. <em>Besides</em> Sam acting bizarrely. Was there something he was supposed to say or do? He couldn’t say what.</p><p> </p><p>Max smacked himself in the face.</p><p> </p><p><em>If you keep worrying about dumb stuff like that, you’ll just end up like Sam.</em> He thought, picking the pace back up. Worrying about stupid stuff like that was pointless. He was supposed to be having fun.</p><p> </p><p>It just wasn’t the same without him.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaaargh!” Max groaned loudly in annoyance. If he had one more dumb thought about Sam tonight, he was gonna start slamming his head into the wall.</p><p> </p><p>He kept walking, forgetting where he was going for a moment. There was another rumble. This time he was more certain that it was thunder rolling in. Great. Just when he was getting to the good part of the night, the weather had to come along and ruin it. <em>Again</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Max was getting pretty sick and tired of pretty much everything right about now. The universe was screwing with him and he wasn’t about to lie down and take it. If he found one more thing tonight that made him mad he was gonna blow up. Maybe literally.</p><p> </p><p>It was like he blinked and he was at his destination. A busy overpass with cars hastily entering and exiting. They were turning, stopping, and parking all around him on the busy street. It was the heaviest traffic Max had seen since he got here. But he didn’t care about what the countless cars were doing, nor did he care about their occupants or the bright blinking lights.</p><p> </p><p>He was focused on the dirty underbelly. One of the unmentionable stains on the city, like the stains on Sam’s suits from his messy eating. Litter, drugs, tent cities. All of that wonderful stuff Max was familiar with. He used to bust this spot with Sam all the time. It got to the point where the mere sight of him sent potential perps and creeps running. A good feeling. Mainly because he loved the chase. Nothing like a good chase to get his blood pumping.</p><p> </p><p>He idly wondered if tonight would be as exciting. No one was screaming in terror yet, so either he was sneakier than he thought, or this timeline’s Max wasn’t good enough at his job. That just made him more excited to get started. He almost cracked a joke, but remembered Sam wasn’t there to hear it so he didn’t. That would be something else to get used to, if he kept doing this.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly convinced himself to stop thinking about Sam and kept moving. These shady drug dealers weren’t gonna arrest themselves. Max shuddered to think of a timeline where they did. That would be his own personal hell.</p><p> </p><p>The underside of the overpass was as dirty, dark, and dingy as always. Just the way Max liked it. He could spend hours under there rummaging through discarded packaging and old food, finding lost possessions or articles of clothing, digging through the tents of the homeless. Good stuff, down there.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of, he saw a few makeshift tents deep in the cracks where the overpass left the ground. They were made of tarps, blankets, and other loose materials that Max couldn’t identify. No doubt nefarious activity was happening. <em>Dangerous</em> activity. He could hardly wait. He was giddy with excitement.</p><p> </p><p>He began charging confidently at the structure, sure this would be another easy bust. He began eagerly thinking about what he was going to do with each shady lowlife that ended up under his heels.</p><p> </p><p>But then, something stopped him.</p><p> </p><p>Or, rather, some<em>one</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Or, no, it was definitely some<em>thing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He paused his stride with a foot halfway off the ground. Images of Sam’s sad, puppy-dog look flashed across his eyes. He shook his head to dispel the intrusive image, but it didn’t go. He tried ignoring it and took another step towards justice, but it made him feel bad. It made him feel <em>really</em> bad. Like every step he took was a step away from Sam.</p><p> </p><p>Why did he care about that right now? Sam wasn’t here. Sam didn’t even know <em>he</em> was here.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, that only made him feel worse.</p><p> </p><p>Max took a step back. Then another. Then another. He kept walking back until he was back on the sidewalk. He instinctually grabbed onto the side of the final building on the block, the red brick cool against his hand. All of his excitement and joy from mere moments ago vanished instantly, and he looked downtrodden where he stood.</p><p> </p><p>He tried explaining his actions to himself in a way that didn’t make him feel like a wuss. He just felt bad that Sam wouldn’t be here to see him wreck all of those worthless street urchins. That’s all. It wasn’t fun if Sam wasn’t there to help.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, that didn’t help his mood.</p><p> </p><p><em>Great</em>. The big, dumb doof was rubbing off on him. This wouldn’t do. It was insulting. Max never said no to a good time, and he wasn’t about to now. He was gonna puff out his chest, psyche himself up, and walk back down there and beat people up like a responsible adult. All he had to do was move!</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t move.</p><p> </p><p>Only one thing to do in a situation like this.</p><p> </p><p>He reared his head back and slammed his forehead against the brick wall he had grabbed. Throbbing pain engulfed his head and instantly erupted into a hammering headache. That was more like it. He had just been thinking too much. This was much better.</p><p> </p><p>Wait, what had he been thinking too much about, again?</p><p> </p><p>Great, now he’d confused himself. He rubbed his forehead and tried to regain his bearings. Road, cars, night…</p><p> </p><p>Oh yeah! Stopping criminals! That’s what he had been up to! He was gonna stop those no good hobos camped out sharing needles under the overpass. A typical Thursday night.</p><p> </p><p>He was about to leave the side of the building when he heard something that stopped him.</p><p> </p><p>Or, rather, some<em>one</em>. (Wait, had he used that line already? He couldn’t remember…)</p><p> </p><p>“Max!” There you are!” A voice behind him, gasping for breath, called his name. Max turned his head.</p><p> </p><p>It was Sybil, running down the street towards him in…fuzzy pajamas? And slippers? And was she sweating?</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hi, Sybil!” Max greeted cheerfully, ignoring the strange circumstances. “So I see you finally worked up the courage to tell me how you really feel about me. Well, it’s too late. My flight leaves in the morning. I’m sorry.” He turned away from her, relishing the dramatics.</p><p> </p><p>Sybil finally landed next to him. She placed her hands on her knees and gasped for breath while hunched over. Had she been running? Well, that was probably obvious, huh? Jeez, she must’ve really wanted to confess to him. Wait, wasn’t she married? Ooh! Scandalous!</p><p> </p><p>“M-*gasp* Max!” She got out. Max crossed his hands behind his head casually. “Y-you’re…here!” She managed to say between ragged breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.” Max responded, ignoring her breathlessness. “Hey, listen, if you’re gonna confess your undying love to me, could ya make it quick? I’m about to go beat people senselessly under the road.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t respond right away. She kept gathering her breath, taking her sweet time (which was the exact opposite of what Max had <em>just</em> told her). She eventually stood up straight and took one more breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry!” She stated, her face still red. “Just out of breath. Been running for the better part of an hour.”</p><p> </p><p>Was Max supposed to respond to that? How? He elected to wait for her to keep going before he got too bored or sidetracked.</p><p> </p><p>“A-anyway.” She stuttered. “What are you doing out here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t I just say that?” He asked before answering again anyway. “I’m about to go beat people senselessly under the road.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” She said, not sounding surprised. She straightened out her sweaty, wrinkly pajamas. “Without Sam?”</p><p> </p><p>Uh oh. Better lie. He didn’t need her prodding his huge brain about this stuff all night. “He’s on the other side.” Max vaguely gestured behind him. “We’ve gotta time this perfect for the Double-Decker-Sandwich Maneuver™. So, I kinda gotta go.” He took a step away from her.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! Wait!” I’m sure you’ve got a minute.” Sybil didn’t let him get far. Max gave a slight scowl. “I wanted to ask you something.”</p><p> </p><p>“In the middle of the night?” He asked, confused. Wait...was she <em>actually, really confessing her love to him???</em> He had just been joking. Would this make things weird when she moved back into her office? What would he tell Abe Lincoln? What about the baby? This was going to get complicated.</p><p> </p><p>Sybil didn’t respond to his suspicion right away. She looked like she was thinking of what to say. “Yes.” Was her brilliant response. “Have you talked to Sam about his odd behavior yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Max blinked. Oh! <em>That’s</em> what he forgot earlier! He had talked to Sybil, who gave him tips about how to talk to Sam about his weird jumpiness and his freezing up and being all-around strange. Duh! Boy, did he feel dumb right now.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, not yet.” He responded truthfully. “I’ll do it later. Still <em>kinda</em> in the middle of something, though, so…” He took another step back away from her.</p><p> </p><p>Something was really off about this situation, but Max couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He recounted the steps: Sybil was dressed entirely in tacky nighttime wear. She had apparently been out looking for him to ask one simple question, which most people wouldn’t do, especially in the middle of the night. Also, it felt like something was <em>missing</em>, strangely enough. Max was never good at figuring stuff like that out, but it was right on the tip of his tongue. Like it was right in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>He studied her closely. Same glasses covering her red, sweaty face. Soft pajamas that were modest, yet comfortable (probably). Slippers that had questionable outdoor usability. Looked like the only thing missing was her baby. Oh, and her hair wasn’t in a bun. That was different.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, something’s weird here.” He voiced his concerns, openly giving her a suspicious glare. She shrunk slightly under his gaze. “Something’s definitely off about, like, all of this.”</p><p> </p><p>She gave him a nervous smile. “What? Come on, Max. You know me better than that.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you <em>really</em> went out all this way without getting dressed or ready in any capacity to find me and ask me one question?” He asked, doubt clear in his tone. He took an accusatory step towards her, causing her to back up in turn.</p><p> </p><p>She looked down at herself, then moved a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “I guess I didn’t think about it. When I’d heard you were-uh, I mean, I just had a feeling.” She cut herself off, but Max had heard enough. He was clever enough to figure stuff like this out.</p><p> </p><p>She’d heard something. Something about him. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out (though him being one certainly didn’t hurt). Who’s the only one who’d seen him in the last few days? Who was keeping close watch on him and being lame and un-fun?</p><p> </p><p>“Sam called you.” He pointed out. She deflated.</p><p> </p><p>“What? I thought you said-“</p><p> </p><p>“Cut it, Sybs. We’re both liars.” Max cut her off. He had a look in his eye. A glint. But his voice was calm. “Did Sam call you or didn’t he?”</p><p> </p><p>Sybil squirmed slightly, as if she were unsure of how to answer his question. “Uh, well…” She continued stuttering for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You know the less you say, the more confident I am about the answer to that question.” He deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>“…Uh, yes. He did.” Sybil eventually confirmed with a clear of her throat. “He said he woke up and you were gone. He sounded really worried. He asked me to look for you. He was so panicked, I was out of my place before I knew it and running up and down the streets looking for you.” She explained in full.</p><p> </p><p>Wow. Sam really <em>did</em> think he needed a babysitter. Unbelievable. One night. That was all Max wanted. <em>One. Night.</em> One night to be normal and fun. He couldn’t do <em>anything</em> anymore. This was unreal. He was almost too stunned to respond or be angry about it.</p><p> </p><p>Almost.</p><p> </p><p>“He called you in the middle of the night because I took a walk? That’s just…” Max scoffed, unable to fully hide his annoyance. “And you just went along with it?”</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged. “I thought something was seriously wrong.” She admitted. “The way he was speaking had me thinking something had happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“What <em>happened</em> is that Sam can’t let me out of his sight for two seconds without freaking out!” Max snapped. He pushed past Sybil and began making his way down the street.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” Sybil called before racing to catch up with him. “Where are you going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, Sybs. I’m just going home.” It was a simple statement. He tried to keep the frustration from showing in his tone.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d better go with.” She matched her pace next to his. “Just to make sure nothing happens.” She said it as a warning, one Max ignored.</p><p> </p><p>It was quiet for a bit as they walked down the block. A few cars drove past, but neither acknowledged them. The loudest sound besides the occasional horn in the distance was their footsteps. There was one rumble, though. Max was more sure than ever that it was thunder in the distance. He was a lot less upset about the weather now, though.</p><p> </p><p>Wait. Something just registered with Max. He paused his walk, causing Sybil to stop as well. He turned to her.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s that horrible monster you call a baby?” Max asked, tilting his head to the side. “Aren’t you, like…not supposed to leave those things alone?”</p><p> </p><p>Sybil got that deer in the headlights look Sam had taken to using frequently as of late. Her hand instinctually flew up to her mouth and she quickly turned and began running down the street in the opposite direction.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no! Georgie! I completely forgot!” She called as she began to move. “I’ll be back as soon as I grab him! Don’t do anything rash!” She called back to him.</p><p> </p><p>And with that, she was gone. Well, not really. Max could still see her running down the street, but he really didn’t care about that.</p><p> </p><p>What he cared about was getting rid of this annoyance once and for all.</p><hr/><p>Sam had been pacing in circles, pausing to stare out the window of the office, and putting his hand on the door handles as a threat to himself to go out. It was a wicked cycle.</p><p> </p><p>Pace.</p><p> </p><p>What if Max was hurt? Or worse? What if something horrible had happened and Sam was just sitting here waiting for the lagomorph to come back when it wouldn’t even happen? Why was he just sitting here walking in circles?</p><p> </p><p>Window.</p><p> </p><p>What if Max never came back? What if Sam was wasting his time, looking out on their street and hoping to see his fluffy, white, bulbous head? What if Max needed his help? He couldn’t just sit here. It made him antsy.</p><p> </p><p>Door.</p><p> </p><p>He had to go look. He couldn’t just stay here waiting. Max was out there somewhere, potentially hurt or lost. Sam <em>had</em> to find him. He had to do <em>something</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He backed away from the door.</p><p> </p><p>But what if he was just overreacting again? Maybe Max just ran to the bathroom at the subway station? What if he just took a walk? Sam had gotten himself all worked up over potentially nothing. It made his stomach twist.</p><p> </p><p>Max was wild and unpredictable. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that the lagomorph would go for a midnight stroll, especially considering his poor sleeping patterns lately. Sam had half a mind to call Sybil and tell her to forget about looking for Max. It only made him feel worse to know she was wasting her time out there looking for him because of how concerned Sam had been.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t call her.</p><p> </p><p>Because what if he was wrong again?</p><p> </p><p>This cycle had been going on for a long time. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute an hour. His nerves were shot. He was completely frazzled. He couldn’t focus because of how worried and <em>scared</em> he was.</p><p> </p><p>What if Max never came back?</p><p> </p><p>That question kept repeating in his mind and kept making him feel worse and worse. It only increased his anxiety to sickening levels. What would he do if he was left all alone again?</p><p> </p><p>He began pacing again. Round and round in their messy office. His eyes trained on the floor ahead of him as his mind raced. Part of him was thankful he’d changed back into his signature suit, just in case he needed to go somewhere. Though, the more he thought about it, the less it made him feel better.</p><p> </p><p>There was a rumble out the window. Thunder. A storm was coming. He just hoped Max would come back before that point. He didn’t like thinking about the lagomorph out in the rain.</p><p> </p><p>Sam kept repeating his cycle of worry and fear. Only one thing would break it.</p><p> </p><p>Something that happened both sooner and later than he expected.</p><hr/><p>Max had remained silent on his walk back home. He was silent when he entered the building. He was silent when he climbed the half-broken staircase to the second floor. He was silent as he violently flung the door to the office open and stood in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>And he was silent when he saw Sam, who had paused his endless pacing and looked suddenly to the open door. The silence only lasted a moment before being broken.</p><p> </p><p>Then Sam raced over to Max and grabbed him.</p><p> </p><p>“Max!” He exclaimed on his scrambled over. “I was so worried about-“</p><p> </p><p>“Get off me!” Max spat, shoving the dog away from him.</p><p> </p><p>Sam stumbled back more out of surprise than the force of the push. He blinked in shock at Max’s actions and aggressiveness.</p><p> </p><p>A tense silence immediately overtook the room. Max felt his frustration and anger boiling over. Sam felt his relief and surprise give way to a new kind of nervousness. They stared at each other for a few more tense seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“What is <em>wrong</em> with you, Sam?” Max’s voice was low, but dangerous. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Or, perhaps he had.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about, little buddy?” Sam asked while dusting himself off and readjusting his lapels. “I’m just glad you’re back. I-I didn’t mean to-“</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t start that crap with me, Sam. You know what I mean.” Max stepped into the office and shut the door behind him. They didn’t really have neighbors, aside from Flint, but it felt weird airing their dirty laundry in the hall like that.</p><p> </p><p>Sam felt his stomach drop. Guess he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought. But he couldn’t bring himself to say what was really going on. Not to Max. Best to lie. Or dodge the question.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t like this accusatory tone.” He narrowed his eyes at the lagomorph, who looked ready to pounce.</p><p> </p><p>“And<em> I</em> don’t like the way you’ve been acting.” Max responded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not acting like anything.” Sam defended.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make me laugh, Sam!” Max shook his head. “Are you seriously going to make me list the one hundred and one ways you’ve been off your rocker?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like you’re one to talk.” Sam bitterly commented.</p><p> </p><p>There was another tense silence after that. Sam couldn’t take it. He turned to the side and started messing with some of the junk on his desk. He didn’t want to start a fight right now.</p><p> </p><p>“So we’re just gonna ignore it, is that right?” Max scoffed. “Just gonna sweep this under the rug like everything else that we don’t wanna talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve <em>tried</em> talking about this stuff, Max.” Sam huffed. “Need I remind you that <em>you</em> can’t hold a conversation without mocking me?”<br/><br/></p><p>Max felt a tinge of guilt at that. Just a tinge and just for a moment. “Oh, so it’s all my fault, right? Sorry you forgot how to be Sam! Sorry you turned into some boring…lame…dumb…gah!” He couldn’t think of how to finish that insult, so he just gave up with an exaggerated noise. He crossed to the couch in the corner of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m sorry you can’t be serious for more than five minutes.” Sam countered, not turning to face the lagomorph.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so me recounting how I had to <em>literally</em> say goodbye to you before killing you wasn’t <em>serious enough</em> for you?” Max shot back, his voice dripping with aggression.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m surprised you even remember us doing that. You didn’t care enough to remember it the first time without the head trauma.” Sam retorted.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s-…” Max tried to come up with a response, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, right? It was something else. If Sam was right about this, he wouldn’t forgive himself. That would just make him some kind of monster. “You can’t do that, that’s not fair.”</p><p> </p><p>“And since when do <em>you</em> care about what’s fair?” Sam put the pressure on, turning to face him. Max shifted slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re taking that conversation personally.” Max managed to grab hold of some line of defense. “You’re making this about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I <em>died</em>, Max! That kind of <em>is</em> about me!” Sam threw his hands in the air. “And you <em>didn’t even remember</em> our last conversation! How do you think that makes me feel, knowing I could die and you might not even remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Max hadn’t considered that. He didn’t think Sam would’ve really cared, to be honest. He supposed they’d never <em>had</em> to think about that before. It did make Max feel a bit guilty, but it wasn’t completely his fault. Besides, it wasn’t <em>this</em> Sam that had died, so why did it matter? Though it did give him another argument.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you think <em>I</em> feel? I can’t even ask about what happened to the me in this timeline. You freeze up and stutter and stammer to the point where I want to hit you in the face to shut you up!” He pointed out. “What am I supposed to do with that?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam flinched slightly. He had been busted. Caught. He couldn’t help how he responded to questions about his old Max. It was like anytime he tried to talk about it, it just got caught in his throat and the only thing he could see was that last wave goodbye. He hadn’t realized Max had been so frustrated about that. But if the lagomorph was going to dodge his questions, then he’d dodge right back.</p><p> </p><p>“And what am I supposed to do when I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re gone? How would you expect me to react to that?” He changed the subject.</p><p> </p><p>“You could not care and not be in my business all the time.” Max bitterly responded. And for some reason, that one hurt Sam a lot more.</p><p> </p><p>“You think I’m just going to ignore something like that? After working together for this long? After all the time we spent together? Your business <em>is</em> my business, melonhead.” He said, incredulous. “Do you think I wouldn’t care about something potentially happening to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em>don’t</em> think that, and that’s the problem!” Max countered. That answer only confused Sam more, though. “But come <em>on</em>, Sam. You’ve bothered Sybil to look after me like I’m a little kid. <em>Twice</em>. You don’t think that’s insulting to me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I…” Sam stuttered, embarrassment further twisting his gut. Max was right, though he wasn’t really meant to find out. Sam had told Sybil to be subtle when he called her, she must not have listened. He <em>didn’t</em> think Max was a kid, he just got so darn worried that he couldn’t think of what else to do. “I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t <em>care</em> how you meant it.” Max spat. “You clearly don’t trust me enough to leave me on my own for any period of time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so you run off in the middle of the night doing who knows what, and <em>I’m</em> the problem? You clearly don’t trust <em>me</em> enough to tell me where you’re going, or that you’re leaving at all!” Sam shook his head. “Are you crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yes</em>!” Max responded, though it was unclear which question he was answering. “You’re the problem! I can hardly move or touch anything without you breathing down my neck about it. You won’t let me do <em>anything</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Some turned his head away again in shame, shuffling in his embarrassment. He’d been repeating it a few times, now, but it was the only answer he had: he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help how he’d acted and he couldn’t’ help asking for those favors from Sybil. He knew that he went overboard. It was never his intention to upset Max this much. He just wanted to be sure everything was okay. Was that wrong?</p><p> </p><p>“Because the last time you did something, you got knocked out by a bowling ball!” He pointed out, remembering that moment on the spot. “I thought you were seriously hurt!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sam, do you even <em>know</em> me?” Max opened his arms wide, as if presenting himself. “Do you not know how I always just bounce right back up no matter the injury?”</p><p> </p><p>“Clearly I don’t!” Sam shouted loudly. The suddenness of it made Max jump slightly. “Because you <em>didn’t</em> bounce back last time. You <em>died!</em> Is that what you wanted to hear? I said it!” He did a little dance, spinning around and pointing his fingers in the air, but he wasn’t joyous in the slightest. “Woo-hoo! Sam said something about previous Max!” He stopped. “Are you happy now?”</p><p> </p><p>Max wasn’t happy. It felt wrong, though he couldn’t say how. It felt like he was ripping information out of his best friend like he were working as the bad cop with an uncooperative suspect. It was looking like Sam was starting to completely lose it. But that just made the lagomorph feel worse. He didn’t like seeing the dog like this.</p><p> </p><p>“And, lately, it feels like I <em>don’t</em> know you.” Sam added. His gaze dropped to the ground at his feet, and Max couldn’t see the dog’s eyes under his hat.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that makes two of us.” Max crossed his arms over his chest and turned to the side.</p><p> </p><p>It was quiet for another moment after that. They both wondered if that was it. Maybe the other was spent. Maybe it was all out of their systems. Maybe. Though probably not. Not completely.</p><p> </p><p>“When’s the last time you slept through the night?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “Be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>Max scoffed. “Seriously? You’re gonna get on my case about <em>everything</em>, aren’t you?” He tried waving it off.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Max, I am.” Sam didn’t budge. “Because I’m worried you haven’t slept a full night since coming here.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s none of your business.” Max cut him off. “I don’t have to tell you that stuff, and it hasn’t impacted me at all, right? You wouldn’t even be able to tell if you didn’t live with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not the point, you can’t just-“</p><p> </p><p>“That’s <em>exactly</em> the point, Sam. You just can’t admit that I’m right.” Max interrupted. “You nitpick all of this stuff that doesn’t matter in the slightest, you know? Worry about your own sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t humor that with a response. He didn’t have one. He just bit his tongue. Figuratively. Last time he told that phrase to Max, he had to take the lagomorph to the hospital.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you explain to me <em>why </em>you’re treating me like an irresponsible little kid, or do you need to call up Sybil for that?” Max huffed, slightly.</p><p> </p><p>Sam winced slightly at the dig. “I’m not <em>trying</em> to treat you like a kid, Max, I-“</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you are!” Max interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>“I know that! I know!” Sam snapped back. He sighed and calmed back down. “I know it’s weird and wrong. I was just…worried.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, <em>stop</em> worrying. Because that makes <em>me</em> worry that something happened, and I don’t like that feeling, like, at all.” Max countered, a bit of fire dying in him.</p><p> </p><p>Sam wanted to. He really wanted to. But he couldn’t. He knew <em>why</em> he was worried, but admitting it felt silly and childish. He couldn’t say he was afraid. Not out loud. He wasn’t a wimp. He would just have to make something up or give a half truth. Maybe turn it back on Max.</p><p> </p><p>“You got it, Max!” He announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave a corny thumbs up. “I’ll just stuff all of my concerns into a jar and forget about them like you do!”</p><p> </p><p>“Finally! You say something smart!” Max nodded in approval.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I can’t tell if you’re just selective in your sarcasm detection or you just forget what it sounds like.” Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small grin that found its way to his face. Sometimes he hated how often Max made him smile. “I <em>usually</em> find your intentional forgetfulness shtick endearing.”</p><p> </p><p>Max scrunched his nose up at that. He furrowed his brows and gave Sam a look.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, wait. Do you think I <em>want</em> to forget everything all the time, Sam? Do you…Do you think I take some sort of pleasure in just deleting stuff out of my brain?” Max challenged seriously, then added a bit more timidly. “Do you think I…<em>wanted</em> to forget you?”</p><p> </p><p>The look the lagomorph gave him pulled at Sam’s heartstrings. It made him feel horribly guilty for how he’d been treating his partner. “…No.” He answered honestly, his voice low and reassuring. “No, of course I don’t think that, little buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good!” Max flipped back to normal. “Because all of my junk is perfectly fine and in order.” Sam couldn’t fully agree with his statement, or his quick change in attitude, but he didn’t want to raise more fuss. He felt his own fire dying down about everything, too. “Worried, huh? What are you even worried <em>about</em>, Sam?”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t aggressive or angry. There was no malice or scorn in Max’s voice. No hints of mockery. Just simple curiosity. Just a simple invitation that had Sam more tempted to spill his guts than he would’ve ever expected.</p><p> </p><p>“I…” He shifted. He felt the lagomorph’s gaze on him. This was the closest he could get to admitting this stuff out loud, but he still hesitated. It was like their argument disappeared in a puff of smoke. Max was just asking as a friend. His best friend. Sam felt the tension in his shoulders lax slightly. “Don’t laugh.” He warned through half a mumble.</p><p> </p><p>“When would I <em>ever?</em>” Max acted offended, but Sam was glad to see him like himself.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to assume that was rhetorical, because I can think of <em>plenty</em> of times.” He shook his head and picked at small bits of dust on his desk. “I just…want to keep you safe. That’s all, little buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>He could tell Max was trying really hard not to laugh, but a snicker still escaped the rabbit-y thing’s massive jaw. Sam still appreciated the effort, so he let it slide. “Ugh, grody, Sam!” He gagged while still giggling. “You’re making me all squeamish, you dork.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam could help but chuckle, too. “If you’re squeamish, imagine how <em>I</em> feel.”</p><p> </p><p>That got Max to laugh a bit more freely.</p><p> </p><p>They trailed off into another of their signature awkward silences after that. Max was wracking his brain for something, but he couldn’t find it. Hearing Sam say that thing about keeping him safe made him feel kinda warm inside. His giggling wasn’t entirely a mocking one. It was kind of…flattering? He felt a lot better now, to say the least, but something still didn’t quite sit right. He eventually just asked. “Why…Do you want to keep me safe? You never cared about that before.” It was kind of a weird follow up. He tried convincing himself that he didn’t really care about the answer, but he did.</p><p> </p><p>Sam felt his tension return. Max didn’t sound judgmental when he asked, but the dog couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive about it. A foreign memory played across his eyes before he blinked it away. The full answer was that he’d already seen the guy die and was terrified of being left alone again, but he didn’t say all of that. He couldn’t. Not yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I can’t do this without you, little buddy.” It was the truth, just not all of it.</p><p> </p><p>A strained silence followed.</p><p> </p><p>Lightning flashed.</p><p> </p><p>Thunder cracked.</p><p> </p><p>And Max remembered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If I'm honest, I'm still not the biggest fan of the ending of chapter five or the beginning of this chapter.<br/>I blame the early signs of burnout.</p><p>But I'm really committed to finishing this story! I have a brief start on the final chapter. I'm hoping to have this story wrapped up within the next week!<br/>(Wow that feels weird to say, I can't believe it's already almost over...)</p><p>I wanted the fighting to last longer, but that didn't feel in the Sam &amp; Max spirit, so I hope you enjoyed the brief spat while they tried to avoid admitting that they care about each other :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Burning Black Tar/Sticky Sweet Sap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's finally here! It took me longer to finish this one than I expected, sorry for the delay!</p><p>To make up for it, the finale is the longest chapter, crossing that 11,000 word mark!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had stormed. Not much rain. Lots of lightning. It had stopped now, but the aftereffects were still being felt through the entire city. Surely the entire local area had lost power, if it wasn’t completely destroyed. The wet concrete that made up the sidewalks was covered in large, shallow puddles that splashed with every footstep along with black charred marks periodically appearing throughout the city.</p><p> </p><p>Max had other things on his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Or, more accurately, he had <em>one</em> thing on his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Someone.</p><p> </p><p>Sam.</p><p> </p><p>He was still struggling with having to deal with…everything. It felt kind of like a dream. Like it wasn’t real. Like he could close his eyes and when he opened them everything would go back to normal.</p><p> </p><p>The only problem was that Max had already pinched himself multiple times and he hadn’t woken up.</p><p> </p><p>So that meant it <em>wasn’t</em> a dream.</p><p> </p><p>Which meant it <em>was</em> real.</p><p> </p><p>Which meant Sam was gone. Dead. And Max had killed him.</p><p> </p><p>Oh…</p><p> </p><p>He ignored the cold chill that travelled up his spine like an electric shock. He felt bad. Sad. Mad. Other words that rhyme that mean the same thing. He couldn’t think of any others. He didn’t really try to.</p><p> </p><p>Water splashed as his foot stepped into a puddle, but he didn’t pay it any mind. The sky was a sickening gray. Actually, most everything looked gray right now. Gray and terribly uninteresting. For once he didn’t really have anything to talk about. He didn’t have any reason to be jumping around as a ball of hyperkinetic energy.</p><p> </p><p>Max wasn’t one for dramatics (okay, that was a lie) but this might’ve been the worst he ever felt. Even worse than when he got sick at that back alley, all-you-can-eat buffet. And he’d been puking for hours after that incident. He had hallucinated bright, swirly colors, and Sam had to carry him home where he had to rest and recuperate for the entire day. It had been <em>awesome</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Don’t get him wrong, he was kind of excited to learn about the whole “blowing Sam up” thing too, but it hadn’t been nearly as cool as he would’ve liked. It was just sad. Sam deserved a fireworks display at the very least. The explosion wasn’t bright or colorful in the slightest.</p><p> </p><p>Or…that’s what Max assumed. Embarrassingly enough, he didn’t actually watch it. He had turned his face away right when it happened. Maybe he was getting soft. He almost wanted to do something to prove himself wrong, but he didn’t have the motivation to. He didn’t have anyone to prove it to anymore, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>And that’s not even mentioning after the explosion. Everyone around him kept giving him these looks and said all these things to try and make him feel better. They had even called him a hero.</p><p> </p><p>Max didn’t want to hear it.</p><p> </p><p>And for once, he wanted to step out of the spotlight and disappear. Just for a little while. Because he felt bad, sad, mad, and all of those other rhyming words that he still couldn’t think of. He just wanted all of these confusing and hurting thoughts and feelings to go away for a while.</p><p> </p><p>With no other ideas or plans, Max kept walking. His feet splashed in more puddles from the rain on the otherwise empty sidewalk. He couldn’t even bring himself to jump in them.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t said anything since leaving Bosco Tech. He had been completely silent when he walked out and had ignored anything anyone had said. He just wanted to go home. Preferably with Sam, but that obviously wasn’t ever going to happen now.</p><p> </p><p>He just quietly walked down the familiar streets, the loudest sounds being his feet splashing on the wet concrete of the sidewalk.</p><p> </p><p>Max was alone.</p><p> </p><p>And though he wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone because of how tough and cool he was and what a role model he was to everyone around him, he missed Sam.</p><p> </p><p>The dumb dog’s jokes and his laugh. His level head and laid back attitude. Max even missed his <em>voice</em> of all things.</p><p> </p><p>Made him sick.</p><p> </p><p>But he wanted to hear it again. Just one more time. If only that were possible.</p>
<hr/><p>“Max? You alright little buddy?” Sam asked, snapping Max out of his flashback.</p><p> </p><p>Max blinked up at the canine before looking around the office. He heard a few patters of rain starting to tap against the dark windows. He had almost forgotten what happened or where he was or how he got there.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t. He remembered.</p><p> </p><p>They had just had an argument. Or maybe it was more of a “heated discussion.” They hadn’t thrown anything at each other and nothing was any more broken than usual, so it clearly hadn’t been <em>that</em> serious. They hadn’t even pulled their guns out.</p><p> </p><p>Well, it felt serious. And honestly, it made Max feel a lot better to get all of that out of his system. Sam looked a little more like himself, too. Finally.</p><p> </p><p>Oh yeah. He should probably answer that question before Sam freaked out again, huh?</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, Sam.” He answered. He was going to just leave it at that, as he was a bit distracted, but figured that he might as well explain a bit. He didn’t want to keep Sam completely in the dark. “Just…remembering some stuff. I think.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam jumped on the opportunity and encouraged Max to divulge further. He crossed the room so they were next to each other. He sat on that horrible, cursed couch that Max kept forgetting he was going to destroy. He patted the seat next to him. Max rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I just need to sort out my thoughts first, weirdo.” He said, almost cringing at how…<em>average</em> he was being. Regardless, he hopped up and sat next to the dog.</p><p> </p><p>There was a strained silence for a moment. If Max didn’t know better, he’d say it was just like all of those dumb, weird silences that had plagued the two of them since he arrived. But it wasn’t. He didn’t feel compelled to say anything this time, but there was some sort of underlying feeling going on. Like there <em>was</em> something that they weren’t saying, but Max didn’t feel compelled to act on it. He didn’t feel any kind of pressure. It still wasn’t like normal, but it was better at least.</p><p> </p><p>Max then let his head drop and thump against Sam’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Sam started, clearly uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, Sam. This helps me think.” Max justified before he felt too weird.</p><p> </p><p>It was silent again after that. He didn’t even have to look to know how uncomfortable Sam was about this, though he didn’t know why. Not like this was the first time this had happened. Though, to be fair, last time the lagomorph hadn’t been conscious.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Max appreciated that the dog didn’t make a fuss or complain about it. He should probably tell him about his appreciation at some point. Actually, he probably should’ve told his partner a lot of stuff.</p><p> </p><p>Eh, maybe later.</p><p> </p><p>The room was the same as always as his eyes darted to the corners and walls. Same floor. Same desks. Same closet. Everything was as it should be. It was comforting. Familiar. He really started to feel at home again. Something he hadn’t realized he missed since he’d arrived. But things felt…normal. At least in that moment in the room.</p><p> </p><p>The office was bright and homey.</p>
<hr/><p>The office was quiet and horrible.</p><p> </p><p>Max could think of an infinite number of places he would rather be, but he didn’t have the desire to actually leave and go to any of them. If Sam were there, he would have made a joke about his allergies reacting to the dust that had settled on everything they owned. And then Max would probably think of a quick witted response to get Sam to laugh. Or tell him to knock it off. Either one.</p><p> </p><p>But Sam wasn’t there. He was dead.</p><p> </p><p>Welp. Nothing to be done about that. Best to just move on and find a new partner. Or revive him.</p><p> </p><p>The only problem was that they already tried the latter. It had failed. So much for Mama Bosco being a great, genius inventor. She couldn’t even properly bring someone back from the dead. Max wanted his money back, despite the fact he hadn’t paid for anything.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps he could just cut funding to the sciences as President just to spite her.</p><p> </p><p>And he was pretty sure he’d have trouble filtering potential recruits to being his new partner, too. Not many people could keep up with him, and they usually bored him easily. Not to mention whoever he would replace Sam with would have to have an itch for violence and justice as well. It was just too complicated of a role to fill.</p><p> </p><p>That, and he didn’t <em>want</em> to replace Sam. It felt wrong.</p><p> </p><p>The office was lonely. Dark. Gray.</p><p> </p><p>Max wasn’t one for lame sentiments or anything like that, but he just felt kind of…empty? It wasn’t that he was hungry. He’d eaten plenty. Or, at least he thought he did. He couldn’t really remember. The point was that he felt like parts of him were missing. Or maybe one big part of him. He wasn’t very good at explaining it to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he just needed to do some of his favorite stuff to cheer him up. There was always plenty of crime to stop or violence to be done. He wasn’t about to mope around, getting progressively more depressed and cringy throughout a series of days until things magically went back to normal and his depression was cured. Eugh.</p><p> </p><p>He was smart. And clever. And handsome. He could dig himself out of this hole.</p><p> </p><p>Though he would’ve much rather done it with Sam by his side.</p><p> </p><p>He shuddered. That better not be a recurring thought. It was already getting annoying. What was the point of thinking about it if it just made him feel bad?</p><p> </p><p>He paced around the office, both because he was too antsy to just sit around and too unmotivated to go anywhere. He idly wondered what Sam would’ve done if he were in the same situation. Then he realized that wouldn’t be a fair comparison, because losing himself would be a hell of a lot harder to get over than the alternative.</p><p> </p><p>Still, that didn’t mean the lagomorph wasn’t upset. He just wasn’t as soft and whiny as Sam would be. He never held it against the doof. It actually got them out of a few jams occasionally, his sentimentality.</p><p> </p><p>Actually, the more Max thought about it, it might’ve been Sam’s quick wits that got them out of sticky situations and not his softness. Huh. Same difference. He supposed it didn’t really matter.</p><p> </p><p>The office was too quiet. It had never been this quiet before. Max hated it. He needed noise or something to distract him from the silence. But, to be honest, he really didn’t know what, and he didn’t really feel like doing much anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, everything he could think to do involved Sam. Talking with Sam. Having a shootout with Sam. Throwing stuff at Sam.</p><p> </p><p>Man, this really was going to become a pattern, wasn’t it? That stunk. Max was already sick of it.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t really want to cut it out.</p><p> </p><p>He looked out to the street, charred marks on the buildings and roads served as grim reminders where brilliant bolts of pure electric energy had struck.</p>
<hr/><p>A crack of thunder startled Max out of his flashback. He blinked and looked to the window, which now had streaks of water running down it that he couldn’t really see due to the black night that still haunted the outside world.</p><p> </p><p>He was still leaned up against Sam’s shoulder. It actually wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. It was soft. Cushy. It couldn’t have been muscle mass, had to have been Sam’s constant snacking. It was all going straight to his arms. But he wasn’t going to complain. Not now.</p><p> </p><p>“You can push me off if I’m being annoying, you know.” The lagomorph interrupted the silence. “It’s been a while since you hit me last anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam seemed to consider that for a moment. At least, as far as Max knew. He still wasn’t looking at the dog. If he didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought the dog was dozing off. It was late, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, no. This is okay.” Sam said quietly. He cleared his throat before speaking up a bit more. “And I can’t hit you when you expect it. That takes all the fun out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Max felt his head lift and fall slightly with every one of Sam’s breaths. It made him feel weird when he focused on it. Almost made him laugh. He didn’t though. Admittedly, he kinda liked sitting like this. He could use it as an excuse to poke fun at Sam’s weight later. He’d say Sam made a good pillow. Wait, has that line been used before? Gah. Max had to start writing these down.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, you really do care.” Max said in response.</p><p> </p><p>Sam chuckled, the movements from it causing a small laugh from Max as well.</p><p> </p><p>This felt good. Max had never done anything like this with Sam before. It was weird. Very weird. But it was also good. It made him happy. He supposed Dorky the Dog didn’t mind either, if he hadn’t moved or pushed him off yet. <em>Note to self, if I ever refer to Sam as “Dorky the Dog,” I’ll shoot myself.</em> Max thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you still mad?”</p><p> </p><p>The question caught Max off guard. It almost made him sit up to give Sam a weird look. Or to hit him. It was completely out of left field.</p><p> </p><p>He was going to comment on how annoying it was that Sam dwelt on pointless stuff like that, but he didn’t. It actually didn’t bother him as much now. Weird.</p><p> </p><p>“I could find more dumb stuff you do to get mad about if you really want.” He responded. “I didn’t know you liked to be shamed, Sam, you bad dog.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you ever say that again I’ll shoot your head clean off your shoulders.” Sam instantly responded, his voice humorless to emphasize his seriousness. Max liked getting under his skin. He laughed in response.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like to see the gun big enough to do that much damage.” He laughed. It drew Sam out of his brief spite and made him snort as well.</p><p> </p><p>“No, but really.” Sam said after the lagomorph calmed down. “I get it if you’re still upset.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, Sam, you’re grossing me out.” Max gagged but still didn’t move to get up. “It’s not fun to be mad at you because of how disgustingly understanding you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay. Point taken.” Sam conceded. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” And he sounded genuinely <em>guilty?</em> For what? Why???</p><p> </p><p>“AAAGH! Now you’re making me <em>feel bad for you?!</em>” Max groaned, exaggerating. “You’re <em>evil!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Sam let out a boisterous laugh at that. The shaking of his body caused Max’s head to bounce up and down against his arm. “You crack me up, little buddy.” He let out.</p><p> </p><p>Max hadn’t realized how long it’d been since he heard that line. Wait, how long <em>had</em> it been? He cursed his poor memory. Sam said it so often that he usually ended up tuning it out or ignoring it. But in this moment, he relished it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Sam saying that.</p><p> </p><p>Sam eventually calmed down and it was quiet again. The rain continued pattering against the window in uneven rhythms, and another flash of lightning cut through the black sky outside with a crack of thunder to accompany it. But it was quiet where it counted.</p><p> </p><p>And for once, Max didn’t hate it.</p>
<hr/><p>Too quiet. Too quiet. Too quiet. Too quiet. Too quiet. Max <em>loathed</em> it.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his leg hard enough against the frame of the bunk to cause the thing to creak and groan with gusto. The entire thing threatened to collapse with every movement, but he didn’t care. It was <em>still</em> too quiet.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even know why he was bothering with trying to sleep. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to. He knew he would be too restless and annoyed by the quiet. But he laid down anyway and tried.</p><p> </p><p>He had figured this was his best option for something to do. On the off chance he actually <em>had</em> gotten some shuteye, it would’ve at least distracted him from this horrible lonely feeling that had been growing in him. It would’ve been <em>something</em> at least.</p><p> </p><p>But it was abundantly clear that it just wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t even very tired. He just couldn’t think of anything better to do.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to avoid thinking about the empty bunk below him and how it made him feel even worse. He still wasn’t entirely sure why. Sam was dead and gone. He should’ve been able to move past that pretty easily. It was easy enough to accept it happened, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>It still didn’t fully register with him that he had been the one to do it, though. That was still tough to come to terms with. Don’t get him wrong, Max wouldn’t have it any other way and he wasn’t unfamiliar with pushing buttons to make things blow up, but knowing it was Sam? It made him shiver with a weird and unwelcome feeling.</p><p> </p><p>The commissioner had called. Max had picked up the phone with zero resistance or struggle. That was one of the worst feelings. He had been so focused on it, he didn’t even hear what his boss had told him. He didn’t even focus on the fact that the office didn’t even have power, so the phone ringing shouldn’t have even been possible. Hopefully it wasn’t important.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, it was probably important. Oh well. Max really didn’t care about that right now. Part of him didn’t even care if he got fired over it. A small part of him. A bigger part of him would love to go on the run as a fugitive when he inevitably refused to turn in his gun and badge and went rogue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been running <em>away</em> from something.</p><p> </p><p>Wait, what had he been thinking about?</p><p> </p><p>Ah, right. How much he hated this. He hated feeling sad and he hated this feeling of not wanting to do anything.</p><p> </p><p>This was all Sam’s fault. If the big dumb doof never got those powers, he wouldn’t have turned into the (admittedly really cool) monster Max would have to blow up, and Max wouldn’t be sitting here feeling sad and empty now.</p><p> </p><p>Though the lagomorph quickly felt his anger and blame dissolving to nothing. He felt too awful to get mad at Sam right now. It wasn’t fun when the guy wasn’t there to fight back.</p><p> </p><p>Why was he still sitting here again? It was obvious he wasn’t going to sleep with both the deafening silence in the room and the horrible mood he was in.</p><p> </p><p>Ah, right. He was sitting here because he had nothing else to do and nowhere else to go.</p><p> </p><p>Man. Being lonely <em>sucked</em>. It was way too still and quiet. It was almost distracting.</p>
<hr/><p>Okay, if Sam shifted and moved and distracted Max one more time, he was gonna start hitting the guy.</p><p> </p><p>The lagomorph crinkled his nose in slight annoyance. He was gonna yell at the dog to cut it out, but quickly realized it was kind of his own fault for sitting like he was. So instead he just internally grumbled to himself.</p><p> </p><p>He found he couldn’t focus properly, only partly due to Sam distracting him. New questions kept popping up in his head. Knowing what he did and how he acted before arriving in this timeline put a new perspective on things.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Sam.” He started, only half aware he was even speaking.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, little buddy?” The dog responded, his voice low.</p><p> </p><p>“What was it like? The time after I died?”</p><p> </p><p>He felt Sam stiffen beside him at that. Ah. Perhaps it was a bit too soon to ask such direct questions about it. He couldn’t expect Sam to just change completely in an instant, even if it did annoy him to no end that the doof couldn’t just say it out loud. The lagomorph was learning (albeit slowly) how to be more patient about this stuff.</p><p> </p><p>He was about to take the question back, but Sam surprisingly spoke before he could.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, well, little buddy…” He started and audibly gulped. Max bit his tongue (only slightly literally) so he wouldn’t interrupt. “It was…well, it was all kind of a blur.”</p><p> </p><p>“A blur?” Max echoed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Sam let out a breath. “Like, I can’t tell if it was minutes or days after you died before this, well, <em>you</em> showed up.” He admitted. “All I really know is that it was quiet. Way too quiet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, good. Because that’s what I’m starting to remember and it’s the <em>worst</em>.” Max groaned.</p><p> </p><p>There was a brief pause as Sam thought of what to say. Max chose to focus on the rain against the window in that moment to take his mind off of things. Just for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, little buddy, you don’t have to focus on this stuff.” The dog said.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Max furrowed his invisible brows at that.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it just seems like we both had a rough time with things.” Sam explained. “Maybe we should just focus on where we’re at now and let the past stay in the past.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, that was unexpected. Wasn’t that <em>literally</em> what Max had been frustrated about this whole time? That the doof was too focused on the unimportant stuff from the past? That he kept freezing up about it and couldn’t let it go? It was just dripping with irony.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You</em> of all people are telling <em>me</em> that?” Max asked, stunned. “Did you hit your head and I missed it or something?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam gave a dry chuckle at his shock. “No, no…I don’t know, maybe you were right. I’ve been so focused on the you that I lost, I don’t know if I’ve really appreciated the fact that I’ve got you back.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, if Max didn’t suddenly have that warm fuzzy feeling again (which he still couldn’t confidently say <em>wasn’t</em> gas), he would’ve barfed. Sam was getting cheesier and cheesier with every passing second. It was disgusting.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, Sam, of <em>course</em> you appreciate me.” Max reacted in the only way he knew how. “I mean, it’s <em>me</em>. How could you not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Har-har.” Sam responded. “Forget I said anything, knucklehead.”</p><p> </p><p>Max <em>was</em> going to respond that he already had, but that would be a lie. He kept focusing on the horrible sugary feeling he had. It made him squeamish, and he almost started shivering just to expel it from his system. It made him feel gross in the best way possible. Or maybe it made him good in the grossest way possible? Hard to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, don’t tell anyone I said this.” He started with a sigh, garnering Sam’s attention. “But, I think maybe <em>you</em> were right. Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right about what, little buddy?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>“About my remembering thing. How I forgot that conversation in your giant monster head and everything that came after it.” Max still didn’t move, but his gaze was pulled to the corners of the room away from Sam and himself. “I think you were right and I was wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow. Max admitting he’s wrong. You really <em>are</em> from a different timeline.” Sam had said it as a joke, but neither laughed. Though Max still appreciated his lighthearted response. “Don’t feel bad about that, Max.” He quickly dismissed. “It’s not your fault you forgot.”</p><p> </p><p>“It just got me thinking how mad I’d be if you had the gall to forget me.” Max ignored the dismissal. “You wouldn’t have kneecaps anymore if that were the case.”</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, Max. You’re like a virus. You infect everyone you interact with with memories that even years of expensive therapy can’t cover up.”</p><p> </p><p>And for some reason, that comment made Max even happier and more horribly disgusted than he had been before.</p><p> </p><p>“If you say one more nice thing about me, I’m gonna start hitting you.” He threatened, though they both knew it was empty. He took another moment to psyche himself up. He let out a breath. “The point is, I’m…sssssorry. That I forgot.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a brief pause and he felt Sam stiffen beside him. Then, the dog shifted again. He pushed his arm out so Max had to sit up on his own. If the lagomorph weren’t preoccupied with the sudden overwhelming urge to vomit at his own disgusting actions, he would’ve asked what Sam was doing. He turned to his partner, who wasted no time putting his hands on the rabbit-y thing’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Buddy. Pal.” Sam looked straight in his eyes. Max had trouble keeping eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>Max was usually immune to this uncomfortable feeling. He usually had no problems staring at someone for an uncomfortably long length of time. The other person was usually the one to break first. But being scrutinized by Sam so suddenly caught him off guard. He was already having enough difficulties sorting out his emotions. This just made him even more uncomfortable and tense.</p><p> </p><p>Sam must’ve noticed his discomfort because he relaxed his grip a bit and his expression softened. “Hey,” his voice was low, “you don’t got anything to be sorry for. You were right. <em>I</em> was the one that messed up and was acting all crazy. I should be the one to apologize.”</p><p> </p><p>Normally, Max wouldn’t have any issues with Sam wanting to grovel at his feet and beg for his pardon. But right now, he was too stunned and flabbergasted and completely overwhelmed to give a proper response. Which was kind of dumb because nothing had even happened. Maybe he was getting sick? That would explain the nausea and delirium.</p><p> </p><p>It was quiet again. A tense quiet. They still were facing each other, Sam gripping Max’s shoulders. Suddenly, the lagomorph felt some strange compulsion. To do what, he wasn’t sure, but it was there nonetheless. He didn’t act on it, which was <em>another</em> strange phenomena, because Max <em>always</em> acted on impulse. Everything in the last few minutes was completely backwards and upside down, and while Max normally loved the chaos that kind of scenario usually brought, he felt…almost frightened or nervous about it this time.</p><p> </p><p>The moment passed, and Sam broke the contact and sat back down normally. His head was turned away, though Max hardly paid attention.</p><p> </p><p>The lagomorph sat up for one more second of stunned silence before dropping back down and letting his head fall onto his partner’s shoulder with a small bounce.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t complain or tense up this time.</p><p> </p><p>“….I’m sorry, Max.”</p>
<hr/><p>“I’m sorry, Max.”</p><p> </p><p>Max was getting pretty tired of hearing that phrase. His friends had said it to him so often over the last few days that he had started tuning the words out completely. The only reason that he even acknowledged it this time was because this one wasn’t some lame sentiment.</p><p> </p><p>It was a refusal.</p><p> </p><p>He had gone back to Bosco Tech, the first time there since the whole “blowing Sam up” incident. It had been days. He hadn’t become some kind of shut-in or anything. He still went out stopping crimes every night, but he had lost his gusto. And he had stopped seeking out his friends to bother because they just kept looking at him strange and stuff. It was <em>so</em> annoying.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really <em>want</em> to be there, but he needed Mama Bosco’s help. He had just remembered the time travelling elevator from…some case. But he remembered he could travel through time freely using it, and if he went back in time, he could’ve done something different to either save Sam or find some other solution.</p><p> </p><p>He was kind of surprised he even thought of the idea. He wasn’t sure what triggered the memory. He was twisting some street rat’s arm behind his back when he just remembered about the thing. And at first he wasn’t sure what to do with the memory, but he connected the dots eventually. He was smart like that.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, he had gone back to Bosco Tech to have Mama Bosco build it for him (he even thought of some cool designs) so things could go back to normal. It was pretty straightforward. There was just one teeny-tiny little problem.</p><p> </p><p>Mama Bosco had refused.</p><p> </p><p>Now Max <em>normally</em> didn’t like to play the “Presidential-Power” card, but he wasn’t about to be told no to something so important. Yes, everything before that he’d ever wanted and was denied was important, too, but this was, like, the <em>most</em> important. Because he realized something over the last few days.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted Sam back.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>needed</em> Sam back.</p><p> </p><p>And he was already at the point where he wasn’t even ashamed to admit that.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly got over his stunned silence at Mama Bosco’s refusal. Part of him knew it wouldn’t be as easy as he would’ve liked. She was like most people and had “doubts” and “fears.” Pah.</p><p> </p><p>“Mama B, didn’t you hear me?” He asked, his voice still slightly stunned despite him obviously getting over it already. “I can’t do this without Sam. This is my only chance.”</p><p> </p><p>She just shook her head. “Max, I know you’re upset, but you’ve been gettin’ along fine the past few days. Give it some more time and you’ll be alright again.” She was trying to be nice or something, but Max just wanted to smack her in her dumb face and demand she get to work.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, so we don’t go back in time. Let’s try the cloning thing again! You can have his pillow, there’s enough of his drool and sweat in that thing to fill a swimming pool.” Max suggested, hopping slightly from foot to foot. He wasn’t just going to give up that easily. He was determined.</p><p> </p><p>“Max.” She caused him to stop his bouncing. “Give it a rest. We already tried that, remember? Besides, the DNA you have is too old. It won’t work properly.” She let out a breath. “I really think it’s best for you to relax for a bit. No one is expectin’ you to bounce back right away, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can it, Mama B.” Max stopped her before he gagged. “The only way for me to come back from this is if Sam’s at my side where he belongs. Now are you going to help me or do I have to get drastic?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you seriously threatenin’ me right now?” She scoffed slightly, offended, and put her hands on her hips. “After all I’ve done for the two of you?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s basically the only thing I know how to do.” He shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>She groaned in a frustrated understanding. She slid a hand down her face and spoke again, this time her voice softer. “Max, it’s gonna be tough for a while, but things <em>will</em> get better. You just gotta trust that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t’ trust anything that I haven’t shot.” Max deflected.</p><p> </p><p>“You must trust a lot of people, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Among other things…” He left it intentionally vague, as the list would be far too long to name them all. “Point is that I don’t believe that for a second.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well tough.” The scientist crossed her arms over her chest. “I can be pretty stubborn, you know. I’m not gonna cave that easy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hence the ‘motivation.’” Max grinned wickedly, though he wasn’t exactly chipper at the moment. He was having more and more trouble withholding all of his frustrations.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s enough, Max.” She dismissed it. “I don’t want you talkin’ about changin’ this stuff anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, then let me <em>fix this</em>, Mama B.” He pushed.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I meant.” She groaned again. “For the last time, I’m not takin’ that risk!” She snapped. “It’s not gonna matter if Sam is back if the entire timeline collapses or somethin’ horrible happens. There could be serious, dire consequences if we try that, Max.” She tried speaking levelly and in simple enough terms so Max could grasp the gravity of the situation he was suggesting, though he could tell she was frustrated. Not nearly as frustrated as he was, though. “I’m not doin’ it and that’s final.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Please</em>, Mama Bosco.” Max pleaded. He clasped his hands together to help emphasize his sincerity, though he would’ve much rather tried to convince her in some other (violent) way. He was getting to desperate to think clearly. “At least help me think of something else.”</p><p> </p><p>She seemed to be taken aback by the sudden change in Max’s demeanor and attitude. Judging by her stunned silence, Max couldn’t tell if she was starting to come around or if her brain was starting to fry. Either way worked for him.</p><p> </p><p>Then, he did something neither of them expected.</p><p> </p><p>He dropped to his knees, as if his legs had gotten hit with baseball bats, and he looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. He just looked so horribly pitiful it was sickening.</p><p> </p><p>“If I don’t get Sam back,” he started, his voice surprisingly frail. “I’m never gonna be truly happy again. And that stinks. There’s always gonna be this reminder in the back of my head, and he’s always gonna be there, mocking me for failing to save him. Even if it destroys the timeline or you already know it won’t work. Please, just let me <em>try</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Not the best way to end that, considering he was literally telling her to choose helping him over everything else in the universe, but he couldn’t exactly take that back now, could he? Besides, he meant it.</p><p> </p><p>She seemed to be weighing her options for a long time. He made a compelling case. She really sympathized with him and kenw he was speaking from a place of extreme pain. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what she could do, though. She wasn’t going to destroy everything just for this. She couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>But she was still so hung up on how he was acting that it was hard to think logically. This just…wasn’t Max.</p><p> </p><p>Max didn’t move from where he was. He continued silently pleading with his eyes, trying to win her over. He had no idea if it was actually working, but he was tired of beating around the bush. Tired of trying so hard. Tired of everything.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m still not gonna risk destroying an entire timeline for it.” Mama Bosco started, causing Max to deflate further. She gave a sigh. “But…if it means that much to you, maybe there’s somethin’ else we can try. Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Max asked, springing back up and acting completely normal again. “Cool. What did ya have in mind? I hope it involves sharks. Or laser beams. Or an explosion of some kind. Maybe all three.”</p><p> </p><p>She shouldn’t have been surprised by the mood change. Max did it all the time. Sure it was a little annoying, but she was probably just glad to see him with some energy and passion again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d have to do some research and testin’, but I think this time machine idea of yours <em>could</em> work…to some capacity.” She still didn’t have the details planned out, but an idea was starting to form in her head. “We’d have to make some alterations, of course, but I think I’ve got a plan.”</p><p> </p><p>That worked for Max. He didn’t care about any of that boring, science-y mumbo-jumbo anyway. He just wanted Sam back.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe some flame decals.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t deny the relief he felt at her agreeing to help him. Though it certainly took her long enough. He was starting to worry that she wouldn’t ever change her mind. Still, he was <em>finally</em> gonna get Sam back! He felt a weigh lift from his shoulders.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam was finally starting to get used to how they were sitting and was just starting to feel truly comfortable when he felt a weight lift from his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Max sitting up.</p><p> </p><p>A crack of thunder interrupted the silence of the room. Sam stifled a yawn. He almost forgot how tired he was. What time was it? How long had he been up worrying? How long had they been sitting here? It wasn’t really a bother, just simple curiosity. It was probably a good thing they weren’t on a case. He wouldn’t want to fall asleep while investigating.</p><p> </p><p>Then he seemed to blink to full alertness. Max had sat up. Was something wrong? Best to check.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything alright, little buddy?” He asked, subconsciously missing the comfort of being close together.</p><p> </p><p>Max blinked and seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he was in. He turned and looked at Sam with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” He simply replied.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t really believe it, but he wasn’t going to push. If Max wanted to talk about it he would. The dog wasn’t going to force him.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” His doubt shone through his voice, but he didn’t say anything else, just the simple one word response.</p><p> </p><p>Rain continued pounding against the window to the dark world outside, but it was quiet inside. A strangely tense quiet. As if there was something in the air between them. It wasn’t thick enough to cut with a regular knife, but maybe a really sharp sword could? A bullet would certainly pierce the tension, at least.</p><p> </p><p>It made Sam reflect on things. Lots of things. Especially in the last few hours. Things were different with Max now, but he felt closer to him than he had before. As if those mental walls he had built were starting to crack and crumble. As if he were starting to really see him as Max.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a bizarre week, but not a bad one. Well, it was kind of bad. Lots of tense, uncomfortable moments and worrying and anxiety. But above all of that was this sense of relief and joy. Because one thing had been consistent. One thing Sam almost forgot about.</p><p> </p><p>Max was back. He was here with him.</p><p> </p><p>It was so normal for Max to be there, he had almost taken it for granted. Again. But he didn’t. And he wasn’t going to, either. He was going to be smarter this time. Not go overboard. He had started to let Max know about his worries and that was enough for now. He couldn’t force Max to be safe (no one could force the little terror to do anything), but he could share why it concerned him. Why it <em>really</em> concerned him. He felt he owed Max that much for being such a stick in the mud the last few days and being responsible for their argument.</p><p> </p><p>But Max spoke before he could.</p><p> </p><p>“…Sam?” His voice was small, almost inaudible. Sam had to strain slightly to ensure he didn’t just imagine it. Max had turned his face away, but didn’t move otherwise. Sam could tell something was on the lagomorph’s mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, little buddy?” He encouraged, his voice equally low.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we…do something weird?” Max still didn’t face him, his arms crossed over his chest as he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Weird how? Everything we do is weird, little buddy. Especially these days.” Sam explained, trying not to show how tense this line of questioning made him feel in his voice by keeping things a little lighthearted. Neither laughed or really acknowledged it, but it made him feel a little better all the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Like…talking about our dumb feelings and stuff?” Sam blinked in surprise. Was Max being serious? Like…<em>serious</em>-serious? If he didn’t know better, he’d say this was just another prank to make him uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Our feelings…about the past?” Sam asked for clarification, genuinely curious but also looking to avoid what he was worried Max was really asking. It still made him nervous to talk about past Max, but he wanted to try. He didn’t want to keep current Max in the dark about it any longer. That wouldn’t be fair.</p><p> </p><p>“And about…us and stuff.” Max played it off to the point that Sam almost didn’t catch it. But he did. And the question caused anxiety to start bubbling in his stomach. It was what he had been afraid the lagomorph had been asking. Just because it was all so sudden. He had previously longed for a moment like this, one where they could sort through this mess, but…</p><p> </p><p>“Max…” He started, his voice soft. Not at all reflecting his nervous energy. “Little buddy, we don’t…we don’t <em>need</em> to say that kind of stuff to know the truth. We just…know.” He felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest, and willfully told himself to calm down. He felt his muscles tense unconsciously.</p><p> </p><p>“Then, can we pretend we don’t?” Max finally turned back and looked up at his partner. “For one night, can we just pretend like we don’t know everything about each other and just say it out loud? Please?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam had to break the eye contact quickly. Seeing Max like that made him feel guilty for his apprehension. They wanted the same thing, why was he so hesitant? He couldn’t bring himself to deny the request, that’s for sure, he just found himself less than enthusiastic about the idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…ah, sure, little buddy…” He pulled at the collar of his shirt slightly to ease some of his discomfort. “If that’s what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Max gave him a sideways look before responding. “Jeez, Sam. I’m not gonna make fun of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” Sam mumbled, slightly bitter.</p><p> </p><p>“You wound my honor!” Max mimicked clutching his stomach in pain. “And to think I wanted to open up to you!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighed, slightly defeated. “I know. Sorry, little buddy. You just don’t have the best track record for this kind of thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Max seemed to shrink a little at that, then acted cool in his response. “Aw, come on you big baby. Do you think this is some kind of setup? I would <em>never</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“First off, we both know that’s a lie, and second, why should I believe you this time?” Sam asked. He knew he was being slightly irrational, but after so many instances of things like this turning into Max doubled over, laughing his head off, Sam couldn’t bring himself to get suckered in again so easily.</p><p> </p><p>“Because it was my idea, ya doof.” Max threw his arms in the air like it was obvious. “Fine, you want me to go first so you have blackmail on me?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I just remembered that when you were gone in my timeline that I was <em>bored</em>. Like, you keeping me locked up here like some sort of forbidden treasure, which I am, was boring. But having to try to fight crime or answer calls from the commissioner without any witty banter or resistance to my wild antics? It was unbearable. Completely unbearable!” He paused for breath. “So, I vowed to never go through that again. And here I am.” He said that last line with a simplicity that only Max could gather after a reveal like that.</p><p> </p><p>Sam had to take a second to absorb the information he’d just received. So…Max <em>did</em> miss him. Well, that was obvious, in hindsight. The guy literally travelled across timelines to see him. Sam couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted that. He felt that all-too-familiar warm feeling starting to bubble back up inside of him. It mixed strangely with the anxiety in some sort of sickening cocktail of emotion.</p><p> </p><p>“So, there. Go ahead and laugh to get it out of your system.” Max waved his hands to Sam, encouraging him to do so. But Sam didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny, it was…nice.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not gonna laugh at you for that, Max.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Not when I feel the same way about it.” He paused slightly to ensure the lagomorph had actually heard him. “I mean, I didn’t do any crime fighting when I was alone, but I <em>do</em> understand how lonely and boring it was. I get it.” He explained a bit more.</p><p> </p><p>Max turned back to him and looked up at him. Sam couldn’t fully read his expression, but the fact he wasn’t stifling giggles and didn’t look completely disgusted was probably a good sign.</p><p> </p><p>“And I…also vowed to never go through that again when I got you back.” Sam finished, slightly embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>Max hummed and broke the stare, turning his head towards the window. They listened to the rainfall for another moment before the lagomorph spoke up again.</p><p> </p><p>“…You never…” Max started. “You were never <em>glad</em> that I was gone, right? Like, some kind of weight was lifted from your shoulders?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam stared in shock at Max. He would’ve never expected the rabbit-y thing to ever ask such an insecure question. It just wasn’t like him. He idly wondered if that’s how Max felt. Was he…feeling guilty about it? Or maybe he really <em>was</em> worried that he was some kind of burden?</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I didn’t, little buddy. I felt…” He trailed off to find the words. “Empty. When you were gone.”</p><p> </p><p>He paused for a second, almost afraid to ask his next question, but he had to know. “Is that how <em>you</em> felt? Like a weight was lifted from your shoulders?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t flatter yourself, Sam.” Max mumbled, turning his head away. “I don’t think anyone could lift you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam bopped the lagomorph on the head with the flat of his fist and ignored his partner’s snickering. The hit wasn’t hard enough to do any damage, but not soft enough to be unnoticeable or easily ignored. That was the only response Max would get to that statement.</p><p> </p><p>It was quiet again, though this one wasn’t tense or strange or unusual. It was kind of nice, just sitting together.</p><p> </p><p>There was more they weren’t saying. Sam knew it. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Should he just say something? Like ask a question or just say how scared he was? Maybe talk about past Max? Gah, it was hard to think of how to proceed.</p><p> </p><p>“So, I have another question.” Max stated, breaking the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Go ahead, little buddy.” Sam encouraged, thankful yet anxious for the new topic.</p><p> </p><p>“Is there some other reason that you cooped me up here the last few days?” Max asked rather gently. “You said it was to keep me safe, but…I dunno, I just feel like there’s more to it than that.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam tensed up at that. Max had really caught onto that? He thought what he told the lagomorph would’ve been good enough. He was a bit nervous to say the real reason. It was kind of embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>He still didn’t buy that Max wouldn’t laugh at him. It was just in the rabbit-y thing’s nature. And while he was used to the behavior by now, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to go through it again.</p><p> </p><p>Still, that didn’t stop Max’s pressing gaze, silently encouraging him to divulge more. He didn’t want to lie and cover this stuff up anymore. He reminded himself that he’d already been planning on telling the truth anyway. Best to just rip the bandage off, right?</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, yeah. You got me, little buddy.” He took a deep breath. “It’s just…well, when you hit your head I guess I realized something…” He trailed off to gather his words and to psyche himself up. He turned his head away slightly so he wouldn’t have to look at Max directly. “I was…scared. That’d I’d lose you and end up alone again.”  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Terrified, actually.” He sighed. “I vowed to keep you safe so I wouldn’t have to risk that…”</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure if there was any more to add, but he let it trail off after that. He was embarrassed enough for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>Max didn’t respond right away. He was so quiet, Sam almost looked over to make sure he was alright. But he didn’t. Max would be fine. He just needed time, probably.</p><p> </p><p>And though Sam was expecting stifled giggles or snorts, there was nothing of the sort. It was so unusual, he had half a mind to think Max had fallen asleep next to him. Was he <em>that</em> boring? He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or insulted. Or, more likely, the lagomorph was just figuring out how to respond.</p><p> </p><p>“…So that’s my fault, then.” He heard Max say, though it didn’t fully register.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Sam asked, stunned, and finally turned to face his partner. He was utterly baffled. “What do you mean? Of course it’s not your fault, I didn’t accuse you of anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you kind of did earlier.” Max said. And while they were disagreeing, there was no scorn or malice between them. There wasn’t much tension. “And you were right.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam was quiet, waiting for an explanation. This time it was Max’s turn to pause while trying to think of what to say. He waited patiently.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I was just so glad to be back with you, I didn’t really…didn’t really think about how things might be different.” He shrugged. “Didn’t pay much mind to what had happened here. I mean, I asked and you froze up, but I didn’t care about knowing that stuff as much when I saw how upset it made you. I just wanted things to be normal. I figured I could just make it normal by ignoring your weird behavior, but I just got so frustrated that it wasn’t working, I lost my cool.” He picked at imaginary dust and less than imaginary crumbs on the cushion between them.</p><p> </p><p>Sam heard the information and responded before he could fully process it.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Max. You had every right to be annoyed.” He quickly countered. “I wanted things to be normal, too, but I was so focused on the past that I…couldn’t bring myself to think of you as anything more than a stranger in Max’s skin. Someone I didn’t really recognize. I know that doesn’t make sense.” He scratched the side of his head in thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah. Sometimes I thought you got body snatched when you were acting weird. Makes sense to me.” Max shrugged. “And, maybe I wasn’t focused enough on trying to remember this stuff.” He continued. “I thought the past could stay the past. I didn’t get why you were so bothered by it. But now that I remember, I…I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>That was the second time Sam had heard Max apologize in one night. It made him just as uncomfortable as the first time, but he could get through it this time. He wasn’t going to get <em>too</em> caught up on it. Besides, he had other things to worry about. Like how they were gonna end up going back and forth all night with the way they were talking now.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s just agree that we were both acting like boneheads and forget about it, huh?” Sam offered. Max nodded in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“Way ahead of you, Sam. Forget about what?” Max asked with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>Sam just rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but give a small grin. “I’m not falling for that one, you little rascal.” He said, causing Max to snicker.</p><p> </p><p>There was another silence. More things remained unsaid between the two members of the freelance police. There was a crack of thunder and flash of lightning outside.</p><p> </p><p>“Sam?” Max asked, interrupting the pause again. Sam idly wondered how long Max wanted to do this, but he didn’t complain.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, little buddy?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I, uh…” The lagomorph scratched the back of his head. “Well, I guess I should probably thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam blinked in slight surprise, an emotion he’d been feeling a lot in the last few minutes. “Thank me for what, Max?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, do you remember when I got hit in the head by that bowling ball?” Max asked, already knowing the answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really have to ask that? Didn’t I just bring that up?” Sam asked, ignoring the fact that Max had gotten hit by bowling balls several times throughout their careers. He knew which one the lagomorph meant.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, yeah.” Max confirmed, moving on. “Well, I just…I appreciate you helping me remember that stuff.” He spoke quickly to get it all out, turning his full back to the dog.</p><p> </p><p>Sam wanted to wave it off right away, but as far as he recalled, he was pretty apprehensive about it and needed encouragement. Max had even said “please.” He didn’t really think he deserved the appreciation for it.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, after I knew what you were doing, I couldn’t just <em>not</em> help.” He settled on, still slightly playing it off.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so soft, Sam.” Max chided before falling backwards awkwardly onto his partner’s arm/shoulder again. His eyes were closed, invisible brows furrowed as if upset, and his arms crossed over his chest. “Frankly, I would never do something so lame.”</p><p> </p><p>Max was an oddball alright. Sam was getting serious mixed signals from the lagomorph. But he actually kinda liked that he was leaning back against him again. It still made the dog uncomfortable, but not in a bad way, if that made sense.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, then I guess you’re not welcome?” Sam half said, half asked. He wondered if it would make the lagomorph feel better.</p><p> </p><p>Max tried to stifle a laugh, but wasn’t successful. His demeanor changed and he relaxed more. He looked up at Sam from where he was leaning, which meant he had to shift a bit more.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said: soft.” His laughter trailed off as he reaffirmed it.</p><p> </p><p>Sam didn’t find that as funny, though. It just confused him. “I didn’t say anything soft that time…?” He pointed out, waiting for an explanation.</p><p> </p><p>“No like that, ya doof.” Max settled even more, pushing slightly closer to Sam. He couldn’t sit still for long, the dog knew that all too well. He vied to ignore it for now.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Sam thought for a moment then got offended. “If this is another crack about my weight, I’ll-“</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” Max interrupted. “Not like that, either.” He pushed even closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh…” Sam scrambled to think of how he actually meant it, but nothing came to mind. “Then I’m afraid you’ve lost me, little buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Soft like…” Max trailed off, seemingly unsure himself. It took him another moment to figure out his meaning. “Like, comforting.” He settled on.</p><p> </p><p>He pushed even more and now half of the lagomorph’s body was pressed against Sam’s side. It threw the dog off balance. He had to reach his other arm out to the arm rest on the couch for support, or else he’d fall over.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! What’re you doing, Max?” He yelped in surprise. Max seemed to snap out of it momentarily and moved back enough so Sam could sit up without a support.</p><p> </p><p>“What? You know I don’t have a good understanding of boundaries and balances.” Max defended himself, playing innocent.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sure, like-oof!” Sam had started to say something but cut himself off when he turned his head and his snout bumped the side of Max’s head. He flinched back a bit instinctually and paused.</p><p> </p><p>Max was looking right up at him, and it made him squeamish all over again. A different kind of squeamish. One that was familiar but also completely new and unrecognized. A feeling he couldn’t place or maybe just didn’t want to.</p><p> </p><p>A tense silence overtook them. A compulsion. Something strange was happening, and Sam was wary of it. The feeling was familiar, just earlier he’d felt it, too, but he still couldn’t place what it was or what he was supposed to do about it. He was never one to turn down an adventure or a new experience, but he <em>usually</em> had some idea of what he was doing. He wasn’t even sure what this was, let alone how to navigate it.</p><p> </p><p>It only just occurred to him how <em>close</em> they were. It was like they were joined at the literal hip. With Max looking up at him, they were just inches apart. Not to mention the lagomorph’s expression was unreadable. Usually Sam could get a grasp of what was going through his partner’s mind, but he was drawing a complete blank right now. It was unnerving.</p><p> </p><p>He blinked to refocus and leaned back a little more to create a bit more space between them. Max didn’t break his stare, making Sam more flustered.</p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, w-what were we talking about?” He tried changing the topic and breaking the brief, yet tense, moment.</p><p> </p><p>Max seemed to snap out of whatever random thought had briefly overtaken him at the question. He shimmied away only slightly to create more of a gap between them. He didn’t go far, though.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno. I stopped paying attention a long time ago.” The lagomorph played it off.</p><p> </p><p>There was another awkward pause after that as Sam tried to think of what to say. The silence was slightly tense still, but not at all unusual at this point. In fact, Sam actually kind of appreciated the moment to gather his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“You know…” Max interrupted the silence again. “It was quiet moments like this that I always hated the most.” He thought out loud.</p><p> </p><p>Sam hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t have anything to add.</p><p> </p><p>“But now?” Max continued. “Now I kinda…don’t hate it so much? Like, it doesn’t make me wanna bash my skull against a wall anymore.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>“I know what you mean, little buddy.” Sam agreed, letting out a breath. “Sometimes it’s nice to just sit together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Max confirmed before they fell back into that silence again.</p><p> </p><p>More rain pattered against the window. Wind whipped against the old frame, causing the glass to rattle slightly. A low rumble of thunder echoed. Seems the worst of the storm had passed.</p><p> </p><p>Sam could get used to this. Maybe he’d rest his eyes a moment. Just sit in peace for a bit. He hadn’t felt this kind of calm familiarity in a long time. It was relaxing, and he’d had a stressful night. Perhaps a quick rest was what he needed.</p><p> </p><p>The dog leaned his head back slightly and closed his eyes. He let out a deep breath and listened to the rhythmic drops against the glass across the room. He hadn’t ever really understood the term “peace and quiet” before, but in that moment, it clicked. Here he was, sitting with his best friend whom he thought he lost, relaxing. He certainly wasn’t going to complain.</p><p> </p><p>“Sam?” Max spoke up again, slightly snapping the dog out of his dozing.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmhmm?” Sam hummed in reply, not opening his eyes or moving.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…” Max trailed off for a second, causing Sam to perk up more. “Heh, I guess there’s still one more thing I forgot about.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that, little buddy?” Sam asked, still not wanting to move for fear of breaking his comfort. He wasn’t just going to ignore Max, though.</p><p> </p><p>“I, uh…” It wasn’t like Max to be so tongue-tied. Sam was almost concerned. If the rabbit-y thing struggled anymore with whatever he was trying to say, then he’d get up to help. “I just…care about you a lot, is all.” Max spoke quickly to get it all out. “Just wanted you to know that.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, that perked him up.</p><p> </p><p>And it brought back that fuzzy, bubbly feeling, too. Except this time he couldn’t keep it all tucked away. This time he found a warm smile replacing his look of surprise and his entire face light up at the comment.</p><p> </p><p>And before he knew it, he had shifted. He wrapped his arms around Max and pulled him close. He squeezed the lagomorph tightly in a bear hug.</p><p> </p><p>And, surprisingly, Max didn’t complain or whine.</p><p> </p><p>“I care about you a lot, too, little buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t make a move to let his partner go, and Max didn’t struggle to break free, either. If he had felt better about everything before, his mood had been lifted a million times by that simple statement and this moment alone.</p><p> </p><p>He would’ve squeezed Max even tighter, but he was afraid he would hurt him, so he held back. He couldn’t deny how elated he felt. How absolutely joyous. He hadn’t felt this good since Max came back after he’d lost him the first time. It was indescribable.</p><p> </p><p>Before he knew it, it had been several seconds. He was surprised Max hadn’t moved or tried squirming out of his grip, yet. Not that he was going to complain. He figured they could stay like that for a little longer…</p>
<hr/><p>Or a lot longer.</p><p> </p><p>You ever have those moments where you don’t even realize you’ve been spacing out or fully asleep until you’re brought back out of it?</p><p> </p><p>The office phone ringing is what did it for Sam and Max. And to say it was startling was an understatement.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that’s not entirely the truth.</p><p> </p><p>The office phone ringing is what had startled <em>Sam</em> to full alertness, and his sudden movements by sitting up, disoriented about where he was and the sudden noise, caused him to let go of Max who promptly dropped on the floor in front of the couch and woke up.</p><p> </p><p>Same difference.</p><p> </p><p>After a brief moment of blinking away the surprise and confusion, there was a realization. The phone was ringing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The phone was ringing!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Max seemed to recover before Sam, despite the fact that he’d just been woken up by being dropped on the floor. He wasted no time kicking off of the edge of the couch and springing up, heading straight for the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“I got it! I got it!” He yelled. He was only a hand’s reach away from the receiver. Just a quick reach, and-</p><p> </p><p>“Eep!” He yelped as Sam grabbed him by the ears and yanked him back, causing the lagomorph to tumble back onto the ground near where he started.</p><p> </p><p>Sam took that opportunity to pick up the phone. Some things never changed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello? Commissioner?” He asked. “Uh-huh…yes…yup…mmmhmm…gotcha…thanks…Great leap frogs hopping into a three-legged race with a two headed snake at a petting zoo! We’re on our way!”</p><p> </p><p>The dog hung up the phone and turned back to the lagomorph, who had recovered from the spill and was now hopping excitedly from foot to foot.</p><p> </p><p>“What did the commissioner say, Sam? Have we got a case? Ooh! I hope it’s violent!” Max energetically asked, hardly able to contain his excitement.</p><p> </p><p>Sam just chuckled. “Easy, Max.” He tried calming his partner down. “There’s apparently someone hitting up local supermarkets and making off with hundreds of dollars of fresh produce. Commissioner wants us to stake out the next spot he’s gonna hit and subdue him before he succeeds in taking all of the fruit in the city, causing widespread scurvy!” He explained. “They’re calling him ‘The Fruit Bat.’”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh boy!” Max jumped in glee. “I can’t wait!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not all, little buddy.” Sam continued. “Commissioner said he’s glad you’re back! And they’ve got a brand new, slightly used and slightly aged replacement Desoto at the station for us!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!! This is just too much!” Max put his hands to his cheeks. “Oh, the big guy’s gonna make me blush!”</p><p> </p><p>It really was exciting, but there was a brief calm before they left. They gathered their surroundings. Bright beams of sunlight shone in through the windows of the office, making the yellow lightbulb that they’d forgotten to turn off the previous night irrelevant. How long had they been out? Was it morning? Afternoon? Who could say? And who cared?</p><p> </p><p>And what were they going to say regarding what they spoke about last night?</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, little buddy.” Sam started, looking off to the side.</p><p> </p><p>Max tilted his head to the side. “Yeeees?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>“…I think I finally get it.” He started.</p><p> </p><p>“Get what, Sam?” Max asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Why you wanted to burn that couch.”</p><p> </p><p>That got Max to laugh. Not a light chuckle, either. A full blown, clutching his stomach laugh. Sam shouldn’t have been surprised by the sudden action, Max laughed at most everything he did. Goofball.</p><p> </p><p>“Why’s that so funny?” The dog asked.</p><p> </p><p>And even though he tried, Max couldn’t keep it together long enough to formulate a proper response. Every time he tried, he ended up laughing again. Seeing him so worked up made Sam smile, though, so he didn’t complain.</p><p> </p><p>It took longer than Sam would’ve expected for Max to calm down long enough to actually respond. The lagomorph was completely winded and had to place his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Sam just put a hand on his hip and waited.</p><p> </p><p>“Whew…” Max breathed. “Sorry, that just caught me off guard.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You</em> were caught off guard?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.” Max stood up straight and beamed at Sam. “Because I was just gonna say that I really like that couch now and we should definitely sit on it more.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam chuckled at the irony at first. A simple and innocent suggestion, but the implication quickly made him flush. He had to play it off before he got too flustered.</p><p> </p><p>“W-well, little buddy…” He started, readjusting his tie and straightening his lapels. “Okay, I guess. Just so long as you don’t try to bite my arm off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Sam, you don’t know me at all, do you?” Max showed off his sharp teeth with a wide grin.</p><p> </p><p>Sam just rolled his eyes. “No, I know you <em>too well</em>.” He said before crossing to the door and flinging it open. “C’mon, little buddy, we’ve got work to do.”</p><p> </p><p>Max hopped in place before running ahead down the hall. Sam took the time to shut the office light off and gave one last look at that lumpy old couch in the corner before closing the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe everything would be different forever now.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe things would never really go “back to normal.”</p><p> </p><p>But what they had now? This <em>new</em> normal?</p><p> </p><p>It was good. A good start at the very least. It was something they found they could both get used to.</p><p> </p><p>So long as they had each other.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Holy cow! It's finally over!</p><p>Thank you SO SO MUCH for taking the time to read this. Honestly, just knowing people read this far means the world to me! :)</p><p>Here are a few fun facts/statistics about the story that I found interesting, since you made it this far:</p><p>1. The "Max, we don't need to say that kind of stuff to know the truth" line was actually one of the very first lines I wrote, way back in the early planning stages of the fic. I knew I had to include it!</p><p>2. I tried really hard to connect all of the breaks in this chapter. I hope it worked!</p><p>3. The longest chapter is chapter 7 at 11,108 words. The shortest chapter is chapter 1 at 6,741 words.</p><p>4. The average chapter length is 9,398 words exactly.</p><p>5. This fic is ~185 pages total in my Word documents.</p><p>6. If you include Bounce Back (the prequel fic to this one) that number increases to ~277 pages.</p><p>7. I definitely would not have completed this if it weren't for all of the support from you lovely people! So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your encouragement! :)</p><p>I definitely think I burned myself out a bit on the final few chapters here, but I'm pleased as punch with this story. I usually struggle to finish big projects, so it means a lot to get this done!</p><p>That being said, I think it's about time I threw in the towel on big works like this for Sam &amp; Max. At least for now. Perhaps I'll come back to write some oneshots in the future, or perhaps not. Either way, I'd love to hear what you thought. Any critiques are welcome(so long as you're not, like, a jerk about it).</p><p>No matter if I continue writing about them or not, the freelance police will always hold a special place in my heart.</p><p>Thank you!</p>
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